Elegance in Death
by The Sanctum
Summary: (DariusxFiora) A strange sickness is making the Grand Duelist see things not meant to be in Valoran and a different type of plague haunts the ever remembering brother, Darius. To reach her tainted mind, he must first surpass his greatest weakness: loyalty.
1. Prologue

**A/N:**

I probably shouldn't start off with another story but I felt for something I could write for a change and so I came up with this. A LoL-fanfiction that I wish for you to read. I'll be active with both this and my AC-III, don't worry. So, I hope it'll be a pleasurable reading! Enjoy, but don't forget to R&R! You can't even imagine how happy it makes me to see whenever someone starts to follow or fav. ^^'

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**PROLOGUE**

She raised her rapier and brought it down with lightning speed. The elegant sword cut the wooden dummy once, twice, trice; the blade flew with such swiftness that it was impossible for the human eye to trace its motion. After what might have been just a couple of seconds or a whole hour, he didn't know: he was just there to watch. It was his orders and as long as they paid, he had nothing to lose.

"Watch her," was his command. "Study her movements."

It wasn't like he was thinking grimly of his situation or having second thoughts. She was a very… impressive being. Fairly tall – perhaps to his nose – she stood superior over most of the other women in the Institute of War. Her hair was ebony with some streaks of red and was cut short to her face, framing her aristocratic features with an edge. Azure eyes were focusing on her target, her countenance never losing the roughness of her clenched jaws. Her body was fit and muscular but still very feminine and soft in its way that he knew she would never win in a battle of strength with him.

"Miss Laurent? You've been called upon to participate in a battle."

"Yes, I know."

He was amused to see the little man struggle to show the respect any champion should receive by assistants. It was obvious to any onlooker that the woman ignored the summoner who had chosen her in a fight and that the novice was there to remind her yet again that she wasn't in her Demacia anymore. She was in the Institute of War and there she had to follow the rules as everybody else – except she didn't.

"Then why haven't you met up with your team in the Rift? You are failing to honor the vow you took when you entered these halls; I must report this to the High Counselors."

She snorted and turned away from her target. Her sharp, noble eyes scrutinized him for a moment but showed no friendly emotion. They had had their trifles – directly supervised and in the hands of the summoners, of course – but those fights had not been pleasant. It usually always ended even between the two and he was determined to change that into his advantage. He wouldn't let a weak woman like her win over him. Not even if the Void would threaten to come and consume the whole world would he let her win over him. Not a woman. Not _her_.

"There's no need for that; I was just finishing here. Let's move," she ordered and hurried away, sheathing her weapon as she walked. The novice ran after her, muttering curses under his breath.

He despised her, yes he did. He had never before met with such a proud, self-important woman. She made him furious whenever she opened her small mouth, gloating out her glorious victories over other conceited people. For him the battle was neither for glory nor honor. He had been forced to kill and join the military for him and his brother's sake of survival. His quick rise of power wasn't due to him winning duels and flashing with a sword; it had been him staring death into its eyes and refusing to lose. He didn't lose. Not with anything. He would fight and do whatever it took to win. That was how he had been raised up and how he would live.

"Darius."

Darius didn't turn around but greeted the man.

"General Swain."

"How goes the observations with our fair lady Laurent?"

He rose up from his seated position on the bench and finished his mead.

"Nothing out of the ordinary, she's being disobedient and stuck-up as usual," answered Darius and scoffed. "She's a real pain, that one. Not even her own comrades can stand her. I think you made a mistake when you told me that she would prove useful."

"When have I last been wrong?"

"Never."

"Then what are the chances that I'm wrong now?"

"Slim to none."

Swain nodded and started to continue walking. To any observer it would have seemed like they had greeted each other but this was much more. Darius had learned the way the General spoke a long time ago. The enigmatic man never spoke directly in what he planned or what he wanted, but let his subordinates handle it on their own with the little information that was given.

"How fares your brother? Has he arrived here yet?"

The General's voice was neutral but Darius hinted something similar to expectation. He made a polite bow and replied:

"He sent me a letter before left Noxus; I guess he'll be here any day now, if not any moment."

"Good. Very good," said Swain and adjusted his coat. The black raven sitting on his shoulder squawked in protest. "Tell him to report to me as soon as he appears here."

"Yes, General." Darius couldn't hinder himself from continuing. "Has he done something not agreeable?"

Swain paused before answering. The crippled man was now standing in the other end of the room, leaning on his stronger leg.

"Of course not, I'm just going to give him a few instructions."

Then he limped away and the weak thuds that were of his cane disappeared with him, leaving Darius alone.

Darius sighed. Everything that he had done so far was to keep his brother alive and he had even made the younger of the Blood Brothers join the military for a while. Six months were all it took before Draven gave up. In his pursuit to find his perfect audience, Draven had become an executioner, working in the many prisons of Noxus. Draven's job was for anybody else dirty, shameful and horrible, but he made it a show for other people to see when he killed condemned prisoners. Now, the Glorious Executioner searched for an even bigger stage and more fame; Draven was chasing another dream, a dream where the whole world knew who he was. And his tool to get there was the League of Legends, a place where fighters from the entire world gathered and showed their individual skills and talents.

"Brother…" Darius clenched his fists. "Don't die on your road to become famous. It's not worth it, not in the end."


	2. Chapter 1:1

**A/N:**

Okey, the reason why this has taken me so long to post is cuz I brainstormed all day yesterday about in what POV I should write in. At first, when I posted this story and the cover of Fiora with the summary, I had planned it to come from her POV, but now I've agreed with myself (o-o) that Imma write from Darius's. (Some Draven though ^^) This has not changed the story-plot itself, only in which way I'm portraiting it all. Enjoy now, the next chapter is here!

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**CHAPTER 1:1**

"Welcome to the—"

Draven pushed past the novice summoner and casually swung his axe as he entered the Institute of War. The weapon's twin was resting on his back, only sheathed by a thin leather lanyard.

"I know what this place is called," he answered and grinned. "And I know what it will be called as soon as Draven is done here."

The man in front of Draven stiffened but didn't make an attempt to comment his bold speech.

"I'll lead you to our High—"

Draven placed the sharp point of his blade on the novice's cheek.

"You'll lead me to my brother. Now," commanded Draven and smiled viciously. "Go on, I will let you have a five seconds start. You better be fast."

The terrified assistant grabbed the hem of his cloak and ran as fast as his legs could carry him. Draven felt his hand itch to throw his axe, but controlled the urge. _No point of killing someone that I need._

"Draven."

He spun around and scrutinized the owner of the voice.

"Hello, _beautiful_," he said and chuckled. "I swear, if it wasn't for you I would never have bothered making it to here."

"Fuck off you," she spat out and pulled forth her daggers. "It was hell to 'escort' you."

Her emerald-colored eyes pierced through his like a predator before she passed him and ventured into the Institute. He felt the urge to end her life with a swift swing of his axe but restrained himself. _She would be much better for Draven: _alive_._

He then grinned by the thought of seeing her in much less clothing and started to walk towards where the novice had run off to. He had given the man more than five seconds but didn't care. After all, if he really wanted to kill the assistant, he would have killed him at start. Nothing stopped Draven from getting what he wanted. Not even that stuck up Jericho Swain. Draven was all that mattered.

The man whistled a tune for himself and started to spin his axe, something that had come to be his habit. He had a way of walking that made you turn back to look at him, not really sure if it was funny… or disgustingly confident. His chestnut-brown hair was tucked beneath a headband, or maybe a crown; it was hard to set things clear with Draven. He wore whatever he felt was comfortable to wear when killing and was in general not a fashionable man. His ridiculously long moustache sailed down and tickled his exposed collarbones as he did not wear any undershirt beneath his vest. The clothes he wore were nothing that would stand out in a crowd, but definitely make you aware of that he was a Noxian.

In Noxus, everything is about a person's strength. _Those with strength rises to power and the weak, they fall:_ the pediment of Noxus politics. But Draven knew, he knew that his brother was disappointed with the weaklings ruling the city-state. He wanted Swain to become the leader of a united Noxus, a city not riven to be controlled by rich families. Draven would help his brother but only because he couldn't let Darius be more well-known than himself.

Of course not; Draven was to be shared with the _world_. And say what you will, that Draven was a savage, barbaric man-pig with no respect whatsoever, but he could fight and fight well that is - or he wouldn't be where he was today.

"Brother."

Darius greeted Draven with a nod, eyeing him up and down.

"Missed me?" The younger of the Blood Brothers grinned and held out his arms in a victorious gesture. "You never told me that there were so many gorgeous women here. I saw the list of champions on my way here and almost thought I had come to the wrong place."

"Very funny; it seems like it slipped out of my memory to tell you about that," answered Darius with an ironic tone.

Draven put down his axes on the desk and they clattered together, carving the wooden table with ugly marks. He got an angry glare from his brother as a response but just shrugged it away.

"Hell yeah, Draven's is going to go _hot_, trust me."

"Before you try to do anything, we must seek out General Swain."

Draven raised his eyebrows but didn't ask anything about it. He saw that his brother was tired, almost worn-out; he wondered if that was because of the summoners' magic. It must be extremely exhaustive to be called to one battle, just to lose and join another fight – and to _die_.

"Sure, I'll get going there," said Draven and lay down onto the only bed in the room. "Wake me up when he calls for me."

"He wanted to see you immediately after your arrival here." Darius was sitting on a low couch, reading some boring papers. "And try to not draw too much attention to yourself. Be subtle."

Draven chuckled and reluctantly rose from the soft bed. His legs were aching, having ridden on a horse for a couple of days, but he forced them to move towards the door.

"_Subtle_? I don't do subtle," he replied and grinned. "Where do I find the old geezer then?"

Darius put down the journal and approached his brother. Draven could see how troubled his brother was but kept quiet. He knew that Darius could handle himself and as long as he himself didn't say anything, Draven had nothing to worry about.

"I'll lead you there."

They exited the room and Darius took point from there, well accustomed to the alien surroundings and maneuvered through the corridors. To Draven's surprise, it seemed as they would have to teleport to Noxus and that his brother was leading him to the Summoners' Platform. While they were walking, he was told by Darius that Swain was a high profile target. Even though the High Counselors restricted the champions and their powers, they couldn't make it completely impossible for them to kill. It was much too risky to stay in the Institute of War for even just a week and thus had Jericho Swain decided to keep his residence in Noxus, being equipped with a master summoner who could teleport him to the Institute when necessary.

"What a fucking stupid place this is then," interrupted Draven suddenly while his brother was talking. "So someone could just kill you and walk away with it? What the hell? And did I just travel all the way here to be sent back again? How will we come back?"

"Our summoner will take us back to here; they can't do this without leeching from this platform's energies," answered Darius with a scoff. "Such idiocy, I agree."

They were standing on a glowing "rock" – Draven thought it looked stupid – and waited for the nervous summoner in front of them to send them away. The woman was short and slightly overweight but seemed to be good at what she was doing. Draven didn't care, but if she would sweat even more, he wouldn't be able to resist calling her a pig.

Don't take this wrong, Draven only wanted to say the truth to the poor woman, not insult her. And she would probably be dazed by his gloriousness and fall in love with him… as what usually happened when he talked to women. They started to blush and try to touch him: not become angry and slap him, of course. Draven knew women. They were easy creatures, easy to get intimate with but easier to throw away. He had as well never been in a real "relationship" with a woman. Draven only cared for himself.

Then he saw _her_.


	3. Chapter 1:2

**CHAPTER 1:2**

He hadn't been sleeping well for weeks now. No matter what he did, he just couldn't. Tricks like counting sheep or drinking something warm would backfire and make him even more alert. He wanted to sleep, he really did, but ever since his brother arrived at the Institute of War, he had a nagging feeling that something bad would happen.

When he and Draven had met up with General Swain, they were told that it was Noxus who were to hold the annual peace treaty; a fancy banquet where chosen ones from both Demacia and Noxus would gather and meet. It would as well be supervised by a senior summoner from the Institute, and that person had the responsibility to handle and note the new contract between the two city-states.

This year, the General had chosen both him and Draven to be there and they could of course do nothing but accept. Darius had never been much of a talker – his brother maybe too much of one – and he couldn't push away the uneasiness that was stalking him while he dressed. A servant had brought him a dark suit with a red shirt, matching the clothes with a black necktie.

"Politicians," he muttered and adjusted his tie for the third time. "I hate those people; they're just like... her." _Thinks they're better than everyone else just because of their position in the society. They have the right family name, the money and the appearance of a "true leader"._

He examined his reflection in the tall mirror in front of him and sighed. It just didn't look… right. Not on him.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by two hard knocks on the door.

"Time to party! Get out of there!"

Darius could hear his brother smile and lighted up slightly. _At least someone is excited._

"I'm on my way," he answered and shot a final glance at his mirror. _You can do this_.

He opened the door and almost stumbled at the sight of his brother.

"Wh—"

"No time, let's get moving! Draven is getting hungry for more than just food."

Darius tried not to look at his kid brother but failed. Draven was wearing a fully white tuxedo and if that wasn't eye-catching enough, he did not even wear it properly. His sleeves were rolled half way up his arms, his jacket hanging over his shoulders and he walked with his hands tucked into the pockets of his pants. To the record though, he had taken the time to shave and had replaced his metal headpiece with a headband, white of course.

"Did I miss something?" asked Darius, no longer able to contain his surprise. He knew that Draven liked attention, but like _this_?

"I just felt like something different for a change," answered the younger of the Blood Brothers and shrugged. "And I got to impress the ladies."

They were walking slowly down the aisle, but Darius already felt the nausea of sleep deprivation and shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind.

"Everything's alright? Has Draven dazzled you yet?"

Darius grimaced.

"Just a headache; I'm thinking too much. It's not especially satisfactory to kill someone who doesn't die."

He was referring to the League as an excuse for his overtiredness and hoped that it would sound honest. Well, it was _right_… in another way.

"Is it that stupid place that's bothering you?" Draven chuckled. "Trust me, there's only one way of fixing that…"

They turned right around a corner and could hear the muffled sounds of plates and servants chatting with each other.

"And what could that be?" wondered Darius even though he knew the answer.

His brother grinned widely.

"You are well aware of what Draven is talking about, brother," he replied. "Women, sex; which reminds me of something that I wanted to ask you about earlier…"

Darius waited for his brother to continue but when he stayed silent, he turned towards him and frowned.

"What? Weren't you going to brag about how much she screamed?"

Draven was silent and gritted his teeth. Darius suddenly got worried but didn't show it in his face. They continued walking like this the rest of the way to the dining hall and whatever his brother had wanted to say, he kept quiet. It was unusual for Darius to experience a mute atmosphere with Draven nearby and it was refreshing for a change. Now and then he looked at his brother's bothered expression but Draven did not seem to notice. But when they reached their goal, he finally broke the silence.

"Who is she?"

Darius came to a halt and pinched the bridge of his nose. The headache was getting stronger now but he tried to ignore it.

"Who is this 'she'?"

Draven took a deep breath.

"That… woman," he answered and if Darius hadn't known his brother better, he could've sworn that the man was _nervous_. "She passed us by, before we teleported to Swain, a couple of weeks ago."

"How could I remember that now?" said Darius jokingly but now he was really concerned. "Are you sure that it wasn't just a dream? Maybe a daydream?"

Draven suddenly grabbed him by his shirt and pushed him into a wall with a loud bang. It took Darius by surprise and he couldn't defend himself from slamming into the hard concrete again. He stared into his brother's cold eyes and couldn't help but to compare himself similar to the prisoners Draven had killed. _Is this what it felt like when the Glorious Executioner wanted you dead?_

"It wasn't a dream," he answered quietly. "It couldn't be. Draven does not dream about lo—"

His grip loosened and Darius took the chance to push him away. He knew that he was bigger than his kid brother and stronger by far. Had they not been invited as "honored guests", he would've crushed Draven's jaw by now.

"What the hell is your problem?" Darius clenched his fists and calmed his voice down. _It would not look good to make a scene._ "And what are you blabbering about? What woman?"

Draven looked terrified. Darius could remember the exact same expression from his brother years ago, when they had been children. Draven hadn't always been like he was today. As kids, the Blood Brothers had grown up as lonely orphans with nobody to take care of them or to care for them whatsoever. It was up to Darius to shoulder the role model for his young brother, and he had told Draven stories about the military group that he was enlisted to, his missions and how it was to kill someone. Darius had cared for his brother and as he never knew if that they were their last, he had exaggerated the deeds that he executed. All he had wanted was that Draven would be happy, even without parents, money and fame. But it seemed like it hadn't worked out quite as he had planned, after all.

"That woman with the black hair, cut short, and the red flames in it. She who has those piercing blue eyes, she who was—"

Darius felt a stab in his heart when he realized who Draven was talking about.

"_Fiora Laurent?_"


	4. Chapter 1:3

**CHAPTER 1:3**

The evening continued in silence between the Blood Brothers and Darius chose to avoid Draven at all costs. He spent the time in solitude and when he was forced to dine with the rest, he ate his meal as discreetly as he could; rarely raising his voice other than to ask for some more water. The guests sat around four very long tables, discussing everything from personal stuff – Darius heard someone talk about his new hot tub from Piltover Industries – to sensitive subjects such as politics.

He recognized some of the faces from Demacia, as he had seen them in the Institute of War and had from time to time even killed them. There was the Might of Demacia or "The Might of Demacia", Garen Crownguard, sitting opposite the annoying Du Couteau, the red-head Katarina, and they seemed slightly stiff even though they conversed politely. Next to the bulky man sat a blonde with a wide smile and happy blue eyes. Darius couldn't remember her first name but knew that the two Demacians were siblings.

"Draven needs _wine_! Not water, stupid; _alcohol_."

Darius turned his head towards the sound and saw his brother at the other end of the table, insulting a young servant girl. It had been General Swain's intention to spread out the Noxians with the Demacians, so that the meal wouldn't be considered so formal. Swain had also wanted Darius to get closer to that infuriating woman, and now he sat opposite her.

"What a stupid punk."

Her snobbish voice penetrated his calm and Darius shot her a venomous glare. The woman in front of him didn't wear her usual combat attire – not even her sword – and was a much agreeable view. She wore a long, black dress with a cut-out back, giving her the silhouette of a very feminine body. He saw no jewelry and couldn't extinguish any makeup in her face. She really was something extraordinary; but no matter what beauty, he would never forget her horrible personality.

"Excuse me?"

He tried to sound monotone, almost calm, but she chuckled and focused her eyes on his. Her slender fingers curved around her wineglass and she sipped the crystal-clear water.

"Alcohol dampens your senses; I thought a warrior like he'd know," she answered then shrugged. "You should've taught him better."

Darius instantly rose from his seat and the whole table shook. Every sound was abruptly quenched and all he could hear was his own rapid breathing. He realized how stupid it looked and mumbled a quick excuse that he had drank too fast.

"You're a really bad liar," she said as soon as the mood in the giant hall became normal. "And what's your problem? I only told you the truth."

Darius took a calming breath. _Don't listen to her; she's just a stupid—_

"I thought you were his mother. It's always like that; I try to kill him and you come running out from absolutely nowhere, even using your Summoner's abilities to catch me."

"Are you grudging about that match? You're really—"

"I just want you to know that I'm better than you. That's it."

He sighed and shook his head.

"You're impossible, just like that foolish—"Darius caught his own words. _Just like that foolish brother of mine._

The Grand Duelist scoffed at him and put down her glass.

"You're having a hard time to speak properly?" She raised her eyebrows and was just about to continue when the servant girl with the water passed them.

"Would you-eh, would you like something more to drink?"

Darius nodded and handed her his wineglass. The beautiful, yet so spiteful woman in front of him shook her head and the young girl hurried away as soon as she had served Darius. He raised the drink to his mouth but was hindered by a hand.

"What are you trying to do?" asked Darius and gave his wineglass to her.

She chuckled and finished his water.

"I don't trust you Noxians," she replied and gave him the empty glass. "You could maybe poison us or make us fall in coma so you can have us as hostages. I won't eat or drink anything that _you_ haven't touched first."

Darius frowned but was surprised with her brilliancy.

"Why me?" he wondered and pulled back his hair. "Noxus wouldn't hesitate to kill some of their own just for the sake of victory. You know that. Or haven't you heard about what happened to Ionia?"

Her expression suddenly grew dark and he almost regretted saying that.

"I know that you support Swain," she replied and started to rip her napkin into pieces. "And a puppet master would never destroy the doll that makes most money. He won't kill you – yet."

Darius didn't answer her and she stayed quiet as well. The dinner finished shortly after their conversation and it was called to be a dance. A fucking _dance_. Darius couldn't believe what he saw when the tables were pushed aside and people started to pair up. He shot a glare at the General but Swain ignored him and seemed to be talking to the servant girl from earlier.

"Draven does not like this."

Darius didn't even bother turning his head to look at his brother but ignored him and ventured out of the dining hall and reached a large balcony made or dark rock. The night was late but the winds were warm and he leaned on one of the high pillars holding up the floor above.

"Why are you following me?" he asked. "I heard you ages ago."

She scoffed and came to a halt next to him. Darius looked out over his city and motioned for her to see it as well.

"Here you are, in the middle of Noxus," he continued and couldn't stop his voice from getting a hostile edge. "Aren't you disgusted with your surroundings? The Noxians dogs? Me?"

The woman beside him propped her arms on the balustrade and his eyes immediately swept over her body. _Gosh, she's beautiful tonight._

"It's…" She searched for the right word and her blue orbs stared off into the horizon.

"It is…?" asked Darius impatiently, annoyed with her silence.

Her sharp eyes suddenly locked on him and her lips widened in the most sincere smile he had seen.

"It's not that bad, actually."


	5. Chapter 1:4

**CHAPTER 1:4**

He and Darius returned to the Institute of War as soon as morning came, being teleported there with the help of a Noxian summoner. Draven didn't share a single word with his brother but kept quiet and for himself. He had seen when _she_ drank from Darius's glass and how the two had seemed to enjoy the night together. It wasn't like he was jealous – nobody could resist Draven – but it was the loyalty to his brother that stood in his way. Draven would never betray Darius, nor would he betray Draven. It was maybe of a habit, or nationalism, but the Blood Brothers supported each other, no matter what.

"I'll see you around then."

Draven muttered a quick reply then started to walk towards the main office in the Institute of War, where one could send and receive letters, report something to the High Counselors or even complain about bad matchmaking. And today, Draven was going to say something that he had never said before.

"Where is the library?" he asked and swallowed. The words sounded wrong, almost like a curse.

She couldn't hide her surprise but cloaked it with a polite smile.

"Continue down here and pass the training rooms. You'll find the library there, I promise." The administrative assistant behind the desk pointed to the left. "It's easily noticeable."

Draven gave her a short nod before he followed her directions. The halls were gigantic, probably so that even the largest of champions could walk here without difficulty, and the walls were made of crystalline marble. He could see his reflection and grinned.

"That's right, I'm Draven the godlike." His smile widened. "No, Draven is legendary."

"Are you standing here talking to yourself?"

He stiffened and whipped around. _When had she—_

"You're stupider than I thought."

Draven almost dropped his jaw but quickly gathered himself. He clenched his fists until the knuckles whitened and took a step closer to _her_.

"Are you talking like that to a stranger?" he wondered and tried to sound stern. "You're begging for death, but I feel merciful today. Get away from me."

"Oh." Fiora chuckled and his eyes tracked her every movement. How her red bangs fell over her left eye and how her eyebrows arched in a sarcastic expression. "And here I thought you would give me a fight. Seems like I was wrong; you're no better than that brother of yours. A pity."

She turned around and started to walk away from him, reaching a large, wooden door and pushed her small hands against it. Draven couldn't take his eyes off her and when she glanced backwards, a foxy smile spread over her lips and she chuckled again. The door opened and she gestured for him to follow her.

"So your name is Draven?" she asked as he hurried to her side. The room he entered was enormous, and he strode into what looked like an arena, with bleachers on the three sides of the training hall and sand under his feet. He felt like home.

"Not Draven; Draaaaven," he answered with renewed confidence. "And everything you've heard about me is true – I'm the man who will surpass any god there is. Let's admire me for a bit."

Draven was not prepared for her sudden attack but his many years living in such a dangerous city like Noxus had made him almost immune to assassinations. His hand gripped his axe before he knew it and parried her sword with a sharp, metallic sound. He spun around, continuing his swing, but she was already gone.

"Prepare to die."

Her eyes were focused on his and her smile, gone. A chilly feeling crept up his backbone but he ignored it and shrugged.

"No thanks, one does not just simply 'kill' Draven." He grinned. "Don't be jealous. You can tell your grandchildren about the day when Draven spared your tongue."

The Demacian had been standing just a couple of yards from him when the image of her flickered, and she was gone.

"Idiocy; _die you monster!_"

Draven felt her movement behind him but when he whipped around, she was no longer there. Then he heard her footsteps running up to his right and he threw his axe to the place, anticipating her speed. He heard the sound of a parry and the axe bounced back to him, shiny and clean. _How did I miss?_

"Go back to the Void!"

Draven pulled forth his second axe and spun the twin weapons in his hands. He couldn't see her anywhere, no matter how quickly he turned around. _She moves like lightning_.

"Come out and fight!" he growled. Draven couldn't understand what she had meant with "the Void" but whatever it was; he didn't like the sound of it. "And you call yourself the Grand Duelist! Hah! What a coward!"

Then he saw her rapier cut through the air and aimed towards his chest. Draven dodged the attack and brought down his blades towards her face but she parried them both and slipped through his defenses. He tried to back away from her rampage but she caught his foot with hers and he slammed into the ground. She kicked away the both of his axes and clenched her jaws. Draven was astonished, almost in a paralysis; he had never met such a formidable opponent who could so easily overpower him. He felt the point of her sword against the bump on his throat and swallowed nervously. He, _Draven_, was nervous.

"You voidling scum; get back to the depths of darkness where you came from!"

She lifted her weapon and Draven suddenly panicked. _She would kill him?!_

"Hey!" He rolled to the side and her rapier sunk down in the sand. Draven lunged for his blades and quickly rose to his feet. "What the fuck? I thought this was a fight! Not a battle of life and death!"

Her eyes were empty and he could feel how there was something _wrong_ with her. She wasn't herself.

"I will protect this world from scum like you! Die, you void—"

Draven saw her knees buckle under her and she hit the ground with a soft thud. He didn't know what to do but his better side got to him and he hurried to her, though still armed.

"Fiora? Wake up."

He could see her breathing normally and her hand was still gripping the graceful sword. The Grand Dualist's face was covered with her ebony hair and he put away his axes. With a trembling hand, he pulled back her hair.

"Hey, are you alright?"

She didn't move and he gently shook her shoulders.

"What's with you Demacian women? So weak." He had hoped to provoke her into awakening but her eyes stayed closed. "Or was it too much Draven in a short time? I really need insurance on this; it's happening too often that women pass out in my vicinity. And then they blame _me_."

Draven didn't know what to do. _Should I get some help? But what will they think? I didn't even touch her! She just—_

He sighed and frowned. _What the fuck, ain't this a great day._

"Okay, I'll move you to the lighters; I can't just let you lie here. I hope you'll wake up soon." Draven didn't know if he was talking to her or just calming himself down. "I won't call for any help but neither do i think you're hurt. Or are you?"

_Great, now I'm just blabbering_, he thought as he lifted her from the ground. Her body seemed much fragile in his arms and he was extra careful to touch her as little as he could. _Oh, what the hell, she's unconscious. Get yourself together, Draven. She couldn't handle you, simple as that._

He slowly lowered her on one of the many benches upon the wooden stands and hurried back down, then up again to leave her weapon. It seemed almost like she was sleeping, her otherwise so scornful face was relaxed and she looked at peace.

"I'm leaving you here now, I don't think anyone would touch you; you're a terrifying opponent, I must admit." He couldn't stop his words from pouring out. _It feels so easy to talk to you, even though you're not listening_.

He remembered her dead gaze and shuddered. _Was she high or something? What did she talk about? "The Void". The Void my ass! She tried to fucking kill me!_

Draven shot her one last glance before leaving her, his steps leading towards the library. He had more to investigate than just Fiora Laurent's background history.

The Void.


	6. Chapter 2:1

**CHAPTER 2:1**

"There have been four documented murders thus far and I fear the number will grow. The bodies are missing their left hand… and other things."

Darius rubbed his stubble and sighed.

"Do you have clues about who it might be?" asked Darius and turned his gaze towards Senior Summoner Ezekiel Montrose. "Who might this person or group target next?"

The man Darius spoke to was wearing a long, blue coat with a golden rim at its end. His hood was for once not covering the white-haired man's face and revealed a stern countenance, with a deep frown edging into his forehead. The tall man was resting against an even taller chair and his legs were folded under the wooden table in front of him.

_It must be horrible to be in such a high position, _Darius thought and rose from his seat. "I'll take my leave; I hope that you're doing everything that you can to catch this criminal. _For your own best_."

"Are you threatening me?"

Darius scoffed and turned his back to the summoner.

"No, this is a promise," he answered and exited the office.

_Four Noxian summoners have been killed mysteriously in the Institute of War during two days. _Darius ignored the little voice in the back of his head that was screaming at him to ask Draven about this. Maybe had he been displeased with the services that were offered… or gotten angry when he realized that his powers were reduced in the Institute of War. But Draven wouldn't just kill them… or?

It had taken Darius quite some time to get accustomed with the feeling of magic seeping into his bones and making him slower, weaker and easier to target. He had to admit that there were some times when he died in the Rift due to a summoner's greedy heart or his inability to swing his axe as fast as he could outside the League. It was a terrifying feeling when a summoner entered your mind and controlled your movements. Of course, that didn't happen often with him but he always got an unskilled summoner now and then.

"Miss Laurent? You've been called to participate in a battle."

"Yes, I know."

Darius were passing the training rooms and had the misfortune of seeing _her_. Fiora Laurent. The most annoying woman in the whole world; if she would've been of Noxian blood, he wouldn't hesitate even one moment in ending her life with a swift blow of his axe. But she wasn't. She was Demacian. _Out of my reach._

He shook his head and cursed out loud. _Don't be foolish; with a spoiled woman like her, you'll only die in your poor attempts to satisfy her. She's _impossible.

"Then I propose that you should take my hand and get going—"

"No, I don't want to join them. I've had enough of this – get lost."

He suddenly got curious. _Her voice is… different, _odd_ somehow. She doesn't sound like her usual self. Or am I imagining things? _Darius leaned closer to the door and peeked in, very carefully so that nobody would notice him.

"Bu-But you must, Miss Laurent. It's a very important game; I heard that the prince of Demacia would come himself. Don't you want to see the Majesty? Everyone is going to watch."

_That would explain the emptiness; they want to see the prince fight._ Darius checked the hallway again and it was empty as earlier.

"Jarvan can go fuck himself. I won't enter the Rift."

He was sure now that there was something wrong. She sounded… frightened.

The assistant frowned and crossed his arms.

"It's not like you're doing something better," he replied and started to walk away from her. "You're not even training, so what's your problem?"

She didn't reply and the cloaked man sighed.

"I guess I'll have to report this, Miss Laurent. I can't just lie about this again."

_So she had denied the summoner access several times_. Darius suddenly realized that the assistant was closing in on him and quickly straightened. He knocked on the door even though it was opened and swallowed. _What am I doing?_

"Fiora? Do you have a moment?" wondered Darius and cleared his throat.

The man wearing the red cape – the colors on the cloaks shows what rank the person is – hurried away after greeting Darius. He didn't have the time to come up with something to ask before she hissed:

"Get the fuck out of here. I don't want anyone here; especially not you."

Darius frowned but stood his ground. Fiora was staring into the brown sand as she was trying to find something. The skin on her neck was glistening with a thin coat of sweat and she breathed through her mouth. She didn't look anywhere near that person he had seen just two days ago.

"Is there something wrong? You don't look too good." Darius tried to sound neutral but the slightest of a worried tone crept into his voice and he tried to hide it with an insult. "Frankly, you look like you're on the verge of a serious disease. What's it called; ah, yes, _pride_."

She laughed without joy and pulled back her hair.

"Ah, damn it. I knew I would get it sooner or later."

Darius tried to smile but there was nothing to be happy about. Even though he disliked this woman utterly and completely, he felt drawn to her. He wouldn't – no, couldn't – just stand and watch her crumble.

"So what are you doing here?" he asked after an awkward pause. "It doesn't seem like you're training; where is your weapon by the way?"

She lazily pointed to her left and his eyes followed the direction. The gracious weapon was buried deep into the ground, only its handle peeking out from the sand.

"I won't touch it," she said and clenched her jaws. "It's cursed."

Darius raised his eyebrows and slowly approached the weapon, his eyes never wandering away from the Grand Dualist.

"What do you mean – _cursed_?"

He crouched down and took hold of the weapon. The metal was slick with something he had encountered many times before: blood. It was still fresh.

"Are you hurting yourself, Fiora?"

"Of course not."

Darius pulled out the sword from the ground and his mouth set in a grim line. Four pieces of skin were hanging on the blade and he could barely distinguish them as faces.

_The Noxian summoners._

"You see? You see what I mean? It's _cursed_."

Darius stood up and scrutinized the Demacian. His voice was ice when he spoke again.

"Did you kill these people or not?"

She stiffened and backed away from him, raising her arms in defense.

"No, I told you, the sword—"

"Did you or did you not kill these people?" he asked again.

She gritted her teeth and he saw her hands claw into the fabric of her tights.

"Yes I did. But I had no option—"she quickly added but got interrupted.

"Is this enough proof for you, Senior Summoner Montrose?"

Swain stood in the doorway together with the summoner Darius had talked to earlier. The latter's eyes were widened in surprise and seemed more than just shocked.

"Yes, I-I believe this will be more than enough to prosecute and judge her." He swallowed and stared at Swain. "How did you know…?"

"I talked to a fellow champion from earlier – Draven, that is," replied Swain. Nothing could be read by his expression or his tone. "He told me that Miss Laurent had tried to kill him yesterday but had kept quiet about it. But now since I'm seeing her targeting his brother, obviously after some kind of sick attention, I won't hold back. She's insane."

Darius almost lost himself. _Draven? Why didn't he tell me? No, there must be something else to this—_

Senior Summoner Ezekiel Montrose pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath.

"Fiora Laurent, I hereby seize you with the authority of a Senior Summoner. You're charged with murder and have the right to remain silent until the tribunal has seen your case through. But it doesn't look good, I dare say."

Swain met Darius's glance and nodded almost imperceptibly in approval. Then he gave place to the summoner to enter, before walking away.


	7. Chapter 2:2

**CHAPTER 2:2**

It didn't matter how much Darius brooded; he couldn't figure out what Swain possibly would want from Fiora, but he was to be sure to find out the reason why. He had always respected the General for his calmness and superior mind – thus, the title "The Master Tactician" – but this… this was something that Darius wouldn't agree with even if he was threatened by Death. What could Fiora Laurent – that beautiful but alas so disagreeable woman – offer that Jericho wanted?

Darius was searching every hall of the Institute to find his brother but he didn't see a trace of him anywhere. His first immediate thought had been to check the training rooms, or even the Arenas, but Draven wasn't there. The older of the Blood brothers then found his way into the Dining Hall but with no avail; Draven was nowhere to be seen. He checked with the Noxian summoner who was responsible for teleporting them, asking if she had seen Draven, but no, she hadn't. He really was gone.

_Where are you?_ Darius sighed and approached the main office. _Is he maybe in the Rift? I'll have to ask someone._

He reached the counter and an assistant hurried to him, quickly finishing her drink.

"Excuse me." He paused, not knowing if she would recognize Draven by name but took the chance. "Have you seen my brother Draven? Has he been summoned to battle?"

She lighted up and gave him a slight nod.

"He's not in a match but I have seen him. He asked me on the verge of two, three days ago where the library was." The administrative assistant gestured to her right and opened her mouth to explain where it was but Darius cut it short.

"Thank you, I think I can find myself." He hadn't intended to sound so brusque but didn't bother smothering it over with a polite phrase. He had searched for that bloody idiot the whole afternoon and now it turned out that he had been in the library for days.

Without further ado, Darius continued walking down the marbled aisle and soon reached the Great Halls of Knowledge. It was a fancy name, very suitable for the seemingly endless amount of dusty old books and parchments. One could find a wonderful cookbook on one side of the gigantic library, while finding a blackened grimoire about necromancy in the other. The place had a huge selection of books about history and long forgotten civilizations, but it wasn't really Darius's thing to read whatsoever. He could certainly read – that's for sure – but he could never understand how one could find interest in it and enjoy writing. Therefore, he had never found any comfort going to a library so this was going to be his first time since he had arrived to the League, to visit the famous library.

He entered the Great Halls of Knowledge through the enormous, oaken double door and immediately felt out of place. It almost felt like he was in a whole different world; not at all like the Institute of War, where it was close to a hundred percent sure that Teemo was being brutally slaughtered in an alternative dimension, controlled by ten summoners in a room not far from here.

"Draven?"

His voice felt dampened by the sheer number of books and he suddenly felt uncomfortable. It was like the whole place had a life of its own.

"Draven?" he tried again but there was no answer. Maybe he didn't say it loud enough, but Darius didn't want to raise any attention, as well as not to disturb any reader. It wasn't like he cared about the person he had annoyed; he just didn't want to waste time arguing.

The floor was made of wood and Darius guessed that the walls were as well, if just he could see them. Shelves overfilled with books crowded the hall, together with some comfortable chairs and tables. Techmaturgical light bulbs – shaped like flat disks – hang from the high ceiling and lighted up the atmosphere and he could hear music remotely.

_Must be Sona,_ Darius thought and relaxed. _If she can do this, so can I._

He had never told anyone, not even Draven, about his phobia of cramped, small places, and this library was a perfect spot for the fear to slip into his mind. Darius tried not to look about too much, and kept his breathing calm and steady while focusing on the beautiful melody. The world stopped spinning and he regained his posture. He sighed and almost felt like laughing at his idiocy when he saw something blond on the floor, next to a bookshelf.

_Dear someone, is that a _head?

Darius instantly recoiled and grabbed his axe. _Maybe the assailant is still here, on the move from the crime scene. I should probably—_

The head moved.

He stiffened and held his breath. Then he realized what he was looking at. An almost irresistible urge to hit something flew past his mind but he stayed still.

_It's that fucking boy. What the hell is his name now again? Ugh, I'm sure I know it…_ Darius chuckled. _I can't believe that I didn't see his neck before. This _fear… _I need to make sure I have it under control._

Darius continued – after having made sure that the boy awoke of his heavy steps, muttering something about Piltoveran puppies – and ignored his mental warning: _stay away from the shadows_. He soon found the source of the music – which was the Maven of the Strings as he had guessed earlier – and asked her if she had seen Draven. Darius had fought many times against her and knew that as soothing as her tone might be, they could as well enslave and pierce one's skin with some amplifying items.

His wild goose hunting finally bore fruit; Sona told him she had seen him for not even ten minutes ago, heading towards the lower part of the Great Halls of Knowledge. After some explanation, he got the cognizance of the library's architecture, and headed downstairs where he found his brother in no time.

"Draven wants to know where one can find more books about this. I know you're hiding the rest, but 'why?' is the question."

Darius heard him long before he saw him and sighed. _Why did I even bother searching for him? I could've just followed his voice_, he thought and a shadow of a smile curved his lips.

"Get them out! Here! Draven wants to read them and as a champion I have the privileges to read a fucking book!"

Darius followed his brother's irritated voice and soon saw the familiar face of the Glorious Executioner. He was gesturing wildly and rolling with his eyes, now and then answering with a curse.

"Oh, for fuck sake, don't come with that bullshit; give me the fucking books! Books! They can't hurt Draven! Nothing can!"

"Brother." Darius was forced to repeat himself since Draven seemed too heated up to listen. "Draven!"

Draven whipped around and grinned widely.

"I'm just conversing with this young lady here, she seems to have issues finding a certain collection of books that I need," greeted Draven and scoffed. "What about it? You seem troubled."

Darius tried to sound neutral but his tone got a harsh edge.

"It's the General," he said and clenched his fists. "He framed Fiora Laurent for murder of four Noxian summoners."


	8. Chapter 2:3

**A/N:**

**Thank you all for your reviews, your criticism, your favourites, your follows and your devotian overall. You guys are the reason why I'm motivated to continue with this story and make it best possible! I really hope you do enjoy the story thus far and that I'm not letting you down on any expectations or so. **

**Here's the next chapter! **

* * *

**CHAPTER 2:3**

Draven didn't stop to listen at his brother's urgent calls but continued down the hall, furious about what he had been told. His mind was focused on only one thing: how satisfying it would be to find Swain and feed him his own teeth.

"Draven! Stop it, right now!"

He felt a hand on his shoulder but shrugged it off and grabbed his axe. _Nobody will stand in my way; Swain has had enough of this._

"_Listen_! I really got to ask you some questions!"

Draven spun around and glared at his brother.

"What?" hissed Draven between clenched jaws. "How did this even happen?"

He tried to calm himself down and met Darius's steady gaze.

"Did Fiora try to assassinate you?"

Draven's eyes widened involuntarily and he didn't know what to answer. The pause was more than enough for his brother to realize the harsh truth.

"So she has…" said Darius confusedly and looked away. "I thought the General was lying but—"

"Stop calling him 'General'," growled Draven. He was barely able to keep his voice from trembling of rage. "He's not in control of an army, nor does he have anything to say about you and me. Fuck him, let's just kill the son of a—"

"And then what?" interrupted Darius and glared at him. "What, Draven? How will you be able to live a life with a whole city-state after you? Swain is more than capable of pulling some strings even as dead, you must understand that."

Draven pressed his lips together and frowned. He automatically started spinning his blade and the familiar weight of his deadly weapon tranquillized his rioting mind.

"Then what do you suppose we do?" asked Draven and sighed. "If we can't kill him, then how will we deal with this?"

"I don't know," admitted his brother reluctantly and threw his hands into the air. "I really don't know, but I have a bad feeling about letting her go like that."

A group of summoners hurried by and Draven tried to look composed even though the anger boiled in him. _Why, why do I feel like something is wrong with this? I shouldn't care about her – she's so wrong, so Demacian – and Swain is my ally. What's the issue? And why does Darius agree with me? He hates her even more than I hate Swain; that's to say the least. Where is the missing part of this puzzle?_

As soon as they had passed, Darius continued.

"We need to talk in private," he said with a grim countenance. "I guess you haven't rented a room yet, right?"

"We have rooms here?" wondered Draven, dumbfounded. "Why the fuck didn't anyone tell me?"

Darius shrugged and gestured for Draven to follow him, while filling him in on all the details about what had happened. They turned around to the opposite direction of what Draven originally had been rushing towards, and soon found their way to the older of the Blood Brothers' room. It looked exactly as the last time Draven had been there and he sank down on the bed, gently placing his axes next to him.

"There's a note."

Draven winked at his brother.

"I told you: Draven is going to go hot. I hope it's that chick Sona; a bit younger than I'm searching for but have you seen her…" He made a circle over his chest. "Those are a natural gift, brother."

He heard Darius sigh then rip open the envelope. Draven's own mind was too busy looking up in the ceiling – imagining how good life would be with a woman next to him – that he missed what his brother had to say and told him to repeat himself.

"We're called to be witnesses for the case of Fiora's confession, later this evening."

"What?!"

Draven jumped out of the bed and snatched the letter from Darius. He read the words over and over again before understanding their true meaning.

"But I wasn't even there!" Draven crumbled the paper between his hands. "How am I supposed to be of help?"

"You were her first 'victim'," answered Darius quietly and sat down on the couch. "I don't know why, but this is much too obvious; Swain wants something from her."

"What the fuck can it be?" asked Draven. "Swain has anything any man of his position could wish for: money, fame, status and a permanent place as a Noxian champion of the League."

He was satisfied that his brother had stopped calling Jericho "General" but knew that it didn't reveal much about Darius's real opinion of Swain. He had served him for so many years and all of a sudden – for a _woman_ – he would revolt? No, of course not; showing loyalty was one of the things that Darius excelled in and definitely one of the words Draven would use if asked to describe him. There was more to this than just a wrongly accused person – but perhaps not.

Darius didn't say anything and Draven nonchalantly rested against the wall, opposite of his brother.

"There was something odd about her, that night when the banquet was held," said Darius after a moment of silence. "I didn't think about it then but she was… decent, almost."

"Did she say something about 'the Void'?"

Draven didn't want to think about what his brother might have spoken to Fiora about and just wanted to change the subject. It hadn't been any secret for the remaining guests – inclusive Draven – as they had noticed how the two of them disappeared, almost at the same time.

"The Void?"

Draven caught the curiosity in his brother's voice, as well as how Darius pronounced it differently: like it wasn't something made-up.

"Yes," answered Draven and scratched the back of his head. "She called me stuff when she attacked me, something about the Void. I don't know if I heard wrong though, I might have—"

"Did she say something else?" wondered Darius and looked at him.

"I…" Draven paused and thought it through. "Well, she might have been provoking me to get into that training room and fight, but now when I think about it she acted pretty weird…"

Darius suddenly rose from his place and his mouth was slightly ajar in a shocked expression.

"You fought in a training hall? Close to the library, the second door to the left?"

Draven nodded and opened his mouth to continue when he was brutally interrupted.

"Exactly where I found her," finished Darius.

A chilly feeling crept into Draven's body and he felt the urge to shiver. _Something is clearly not right here… but who's telling the truth? Is my brother certain of the things he's been telling me? And who or what might be behind this?_

"What does Jericho want from a Demacian noble?" asked Draven out loud and he could tell that his brother was as troubled as himself. _We are crawling in the dark, grasping after clues to find out what's really going on._ "He doesn't seem like the hostage kind of guy; more like the old man you scare little children with."

"Don't underestimate him, Draven." Darius pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "He's dangerous, brilliant and he has the upper hand in this. He would never waste his time on a stupid situation and with a simple goal like more money."

"Then what do you suppose we do?" Draven was losing his patience. "Just sit here while he finishes his master plan?"

Nobody of them had to mention her name to understand what they really talked about. They didn't want any harm upon her, Draven for reasons he knew but Darius… what did he want Fiora?

"For now, let's just do as he says," replied Darius and his voice clearly told that he didn't want any objections. "There might be a bigger role for her in the end; maybe he is doing this for her?"

Draven laughed but it was a cruel, harsh sound.

"What makes you believe that he has any tender feelings towards her?"

"Because I was told to watch her since the day I arrived here. She was my target, my goal and my orders were clear: I was to observe her and report everything to Swain."

"Then we're back at square one, aren't we?" Draven laughed again. "So stupid, I should've never even bothered coming here. Fuck the League; this is some seriously deep shit."

Darius chuckled but his eyes were grave.

"The Void…" His brother paused. "What do you think she meant with it? I mean, there are those who believe it exists and a few… men amongst us champions, even claim they've been there."

"I don't know, she was probably dazed of being so close to me."

Darius eyebrows shot up but he didn't have the time to come up with a reply before the Blood Brothers were interrupted by a gentle knocking on the door. They looked at each other in perplexity and Draven watched his brother approach the wooden door. The knockings came again but more urgent and Darius flung the door open.

A short, purple-cloaked woman gave them a polite bow with her head before speaking.

"I've come to escort you to the Tribunal due to the case of a champion of Demacia, Fiora Laurent – The Grand Duelist."


	9. Chapter 2:4

**CHAPTER 2:4**

"Bring forth the suspect."

A shuffle of movement was heard and the owner of a pair of piercing blue eyes was motioned by a summoner at her side to sit down on a chair. In front of her sat the three of the most powerful summoners all over Valoran, the trio also representing the High Council of Equity.

Darius watched it all in silence; he had never actually tended to such a judgment and couldn't recall the last time it had happened either, that a champion under the jurisdiction of the Institute of War had broken his or her vows. He had had a feeling that it would come sooner or later – one must be the first – but that it would come to be from Demacia was quite surprising, almost ironic. He would've laughed if only the situation had been better.

Darius shot a glare at the other side of the room where the defender's part sat – the Demacians – and saw a troubled prince next to a king, the latter also visibly worried, but their expressions didn't show much else. _They call themselves to be such highborn and noble; still they're ruling their people under the order of only one man and his opinion. Noxus might be the black, ugly sheep but we know the ways of politics – and deception._

"Name and title, if you'd please."

The High Councilor who spoke was obviously a woman but other than that, Darius could nothing but guess. The mighty summoners were sitting behind a table each and their black cloaks hid their faces, only revealing the tiniest of their mouths. Two of them had beards but that didn't necessarily make them into men; they could've just used magic to hide their real appearances.

"What's wrong with them? Why don't they show us their faces?" whispered Draven suddenly, his voice angry. Not because of his questions, no, it was because of the proud woman in the center of the room. He was worried.

"They explain it to you when you first enter in the League," answered Darius as quiet as he could. "It's because they want to keep their real identities secret; I even overheard someone say that they at times work as Adjudicators."

"Now what's that?"

Darius sighed heavily and got an angry glare from the Demacians. He ignored them and continued.

"It's the summoners that control and help us in the Fields of Justice."

"'Fields of _Justice_'?"

Darius pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath through his mouth.

"Ah, yes, you haven't even been introduced to any of this yet. Time passes fast, Draven."

Draven huffed and another attack of angry gazes was shot at the Blood Brothers.

"Excuse us; are we interrupting something between the two of you?"

The High Councilor's eyes and features were still hidden but she sounded amused and something of a smile flickered over her lips as she looked at Darius. An instant shock of recognition hit his body when he realized who she was. _That assistant from earlier; I asked her if she had seen my brother… Is it really her?_

"No, Draven is just slightly bored with sitting here, not killing anyone." Darius rolled with his eyes at his loud brother and motioned for him to be quiet. "Politics and mindgames are boring; let's see if any of you can beat Draven in a real fight."

"Shut it," Darius mumbled and then raised his voice. "It's alright, I was just explaining some essentials to him: rooms, the Summoner's Rift—"

"This is waste of time. Just get to the point, folks!" shouted Draven, a familiar grin etching onto his face.

Darius sighed but didn't bother quieting his brother. _He can handle himself now, he's not the same kid he was all those years ago._

Her smile was unmistakable and Darius was now certain about her real identity. She could be nobody else than that summoner novice he had talked to, just a couple of hours ago.

"Take it easy…?"

The master summoner waited for Draven to answer with his name and Darius couldn't hide a smile of his own. _Poor girl, she doesn't know who Draven is or how he talks._

"Draven. I told you."

She seemed slightly taken aback but quickly collected herself.

"Ah, I thought…" She paused. "I thought you were talking about the man next to you, I apologize. You're awfully alike; are you brothers?"

_Impossible... but it must be her. She must be bluffing not to recognize me, even though we met recently_, Darius thought and tried to see something more of her countenance under the large hood. _What a skilled actress._

"The Blood Brothers! Hell, where have _you_ been all this time? Not heard about Draven, huh." Draven smiled wider. "You better be watching my first summoning then. Don't worry about getting bored; Draven does it all… with style!"

"Sit down Draven."

General… No, _Swain's_ voice instantly killed the sudden joyful atmosphere of the room and Darius saw his brother stiffening. Darius turned around to see Swain rising from his seat and limp forward to Fiora's side.

"This is not a game, nor a challenge nor a show." The bird on his shoulder squawked in agreement as Swain took his place in front of the High Councilors. "And I suggest that you, Vessaria, will be wise enough to remember it. You're still young and careless; not yet scarred by the world's wrongness and the darkness there is."

Jericho looked up towards Darius and Draven.

"These two men were brutally assaulted and almost killed due to this woman's pride and search for fame." He paused and let it sink in to his audience, his face neutral but determined and his voice steady and strong. "She's been delirious about saying things like 'The Void' and has in an interrogation confessed that she sees people as voidlings. Everyone she's met – except for me."

Darius clenched his fists and could feel his brother tensioning as well. _The Void… does it even exist? And what does she have to do with it; she has never ventured into that abyss or met with Kassadin or Malzahar…_

"She's clearly unstable and her sanity is slipping away from her, day after day. I'm guessing that thus far she isn't that bad out, but still; if just maybe a week has made her capable of _killing_, does anyone in this room dare guess what she might do in six months?"

Darius looked at Fiora. Her face was buried into her pale hands and she was dressed in the simplest of clothes, only a pair of loose fitting pants and a light shirt. But she still was the most beautiful creature he had seen under his entire life.

_Why, why do I still feel like this towards you? _Darius looked away from her. _Why can't I just stay away from you and let Swain have at it? I don't even want to remember you._

"So what do you suggest?"

The assistant from earlier, the High Council leader at the present and the woman born with the name Vessaria Kolminye spoke with an ice-cold tone. Darius did know her name only… he didn't know if it was her real or not. But if she now didn't use any spell to hide her appearance, it wasn't much likely that she lied about her name. _Sometimes, the best offense is the best defense._

Swain nudged the six-eyed raven on his shoulder with a finger and whispered something inaudible. He then turned to the High Councilors again and seemed content with the otherwise silent trio.

"This is something similar to a sickness that has been ravaging villages close to Zaun for quite some time now," he answered and slowly circled around the room, his red-tinted eyes piercing each and every one of the assembled. "It seems like there is a culprit behind this as well, called the Black Rose. They've taken the blame and it seems like they're aiming to weaken the city-states, starting with Demacia."

He scoffed and halted.

"It wouldn't surprise me if these infected with the virus would die; but not until they've done what they were made for."

The silence almost suffocated Darius but he knew better than to interrupt. Even Draven kept quiet.

"And what is that?" asked High Councilor Vessaria Kolminye, the smile from earlier washed away with the seriousness of the situation. "What are these… infected, programmed to do?"


	10. Chapter 2:5

**CHAPTER 2:5**

Swain's answer came as a complete surprise.

"I don't know."

He had been so confident during his whole speech that the sudden confession came as a kidney shot. Darius opened his mouth but closed it again. _What's there to add?_

"You don't have the slightest clue?"

"Excuse me Vessaria, but what does this have to do with the case of Fiora Laurent?"

"They can talk," whispered Draven to Darius and the latter nodded. The two master summoners next to Vessaria had kept quiet all this time for unknown reasons, letting their younger representative stand for the talking.

High Councilor Kolminye shifted in her seat.

"It has everything to do with her," replied Vessaria, her voice sharp like a blade. "We can't prosecute someone sick; it's inhumane!"

Swain cleared his throat.

"Yes, and I will see to it that Noxus frees her from all charges," he agreed. "These are special circumstances and I will not condemn such a young woman for something she couldn't control."

Darius immediately felt a heavy weight lift from his shoulders. _I knew that you were an honorable man, Jericho. That's why I chose to follow you._ "I say the same; we can't set her guilty," said Darius and elbowed his brother to say the same.

"Eh, yeah, sure."

The summoner to Vessaria Kolminye's left turned towards the so far silent pair of Demacians, father and son.

"Do you have any objections?"

King Jarvan the Third rose to answer when Swain cut in.

"But there is of course a catch for this," he calmly said.

"How dare you?!"

Everyone in the room stiffened as the two leaders – one of them to be at least the closest thing to a leader there can be in a city like Noxus, and the other being the next king in line –watched each other in silence. The Demacian Crown Prince was gripping the wooden table until his knuckles whitened and his father seemed no less infuriated at the ice-cold man standing in the center of the room.

"What do you want, you Noxian snake?" spat the Prince and approached Swain. He wasn't armed but Darius had seen what the tall man could do even without his lance. "Just say it and stop slithering around with your tongue, poisoning our minds with your lies."

Jarvan the Fourth accusingly pointed at the man in front of him.

"Don't push your luck." The Demacian was taller than Swain and shot a disgusted look at his raven. "You may call yourself the Grand General but dirty Noxian politics means nothing in the world outside. I wouldn't sleep with both of my eyes closed, if I were you."

"Stop this madness! None of you have anything to say about this." Vessaria gritted her teeth. "Swain, what do you have to say?"

"As I was about to say before I was interrupted," he said and gestured towards Fiora. "I think this is a much favorable trade for Demacia."

"Trade?! Do you think this is some pitiful market in Nox—"

"Son, calm down. This is not suitable for Demacia's next king. Control yourself."

The two Demacians stared each other down and it was the younger Jarvan that forfeited first. He swore something before throwing a glance at Fiora's hunched body. His grey eyes were angry and disappointed, but not out of any tender feelings; he seemed genuinely sorry for her, even though Darius had seen how she liked to taunt the next king in line.

"I'm happy he listens to someone at least," mumbled Vessaria which made the King raise his eyebrows.

"Is there some trouble with the Adjudicators?" he asked as his son rolled with his eyes.

"No, certainly not," answered the High Councilor quickly as she readjusted her pen. "Now, what did you have to say, Jericho?"

Darius glanced to his side. Draven had been quiet now for a worrisome long time and Darius wondered if his brother was too angry to talk or maybe even sad... but of course not - he was _sleeping_.

_What is wrong with this guy_, Darius thought and sighed heavily. _He better actually hear this out; I am not keen on repeating myself._

"It seems like they're developing a cure in Zaun," Darius heard Swain say as he shook Draven back to life again. He was rewarded with an irritated grimace and a finger. "Piltover decided not to help with the research so we can't send Miss Laurent there even if you Demacians would like to. She will get everything she needs there and will be treated for until she's healthy enough."

"Is that all?" wondered the King, his blue eyes wandering over Darius. "What about those two, are they content with this?"

Swain turned around and his eyes met with Darius.

"Yes," answered Darius and swallowed. He looked at his sleeping brother and chose to answer for him as well. "Draven agrees with me, I know him."

"I see," replied Jarvan the Third ironically. "Then I can't do anything but accept your generous offer—"

"Father, you can impossibly just let him take her!" exclaimed the Prince and swung his fist into the table. "He's _Noxian_ and a liar. If you let her go, she'll die."

The King of Demacia shook his head and tried to look neutral, but Darius could see that he secretly agreed with his ill-tempered son. He stood quietly, his blue eyes locking with Swain's.

"No, this is my final decision," he said. "Either her or risk a war between the two city-states, which would be a catastrophe and a scandal, since we recently signed and vowed on the peace treaty." All the color drained from the younger of the Demacians' face. "I have no choice but to let her go."

The Prince bit back a harsh reply and sank down in his seat, muttering something about "true Demacian honor".

"Then it's decided," said Swain and grasped his cane with the both of his hands, supporting his weight. "Miss Laurent will be transported to Zaun first thing tomorrow and stay there until she's recovered."

High Councilor Vessaria Kolminye scribbled down the last of what Swain said and handed it over to her left. When all the members of the Council of Equity had signed the parchment, it was sealed with black wax and put into a small, metallic box.

"Since both parts agreed with each other, I guess there is no reason to go through the evidence and the testimonies?"

Swain nodded together with King Jarvan the Fourth.

"Then everything is settled and the Tribunal is closed."

* * *

**A/N:**

**Maybe a tad dry and boring - short as well o.o - now but I assure you that I tried my best to make it sound as good as possible. From now on, things will get a lot more heated up (for all you romancy little fluff lovers) but there will still be a while until things get real. I don't want to ruin the story with too much cuddly-cuddly but neither do I want to make it cynical and stiff. I have gotten a few "can you do a lemon?" and I'm still thinking about it. If I feel that such a thing will suit into the story and not be awkward, I'll prob make it in a whole new input, which will be linked of course.**

**Things are going a bit slow now with both of my stories since I'm also active with writing two original stories of my own and a lot of gaming o-o But I promise that I will end this story and make it good to my best ability. ^^**


	11. Chapter 3:1

**CHAPTER 3:1**

"_Hey!"_

_He closed the door behind him and took her hand in his. Her beautiful eyes sparkled in the moonlight and he couldn't hold back a grin._

"_You look like goddess," he whispered and touched her cheek._

_She chuckled lightly and gave him a foxy smile._

_"Like the goddess of the moon and stars, or maybe the night itself?" she wondered and trailed her finger down his chest, stopping at the waistband of his dark pants. "Or am I maybe the goddess of beating you in every single fight?"_

_He laughed and lowered his face to hers._

"_The goddess of my heart," he answered and gave her a soft kiss. "And you still don't think that you're better than me, huh? I'm going easy on you."_

_She frowned and opened her mouth to protest, but he quickly silenced her with another touch of his lips. He held her close to him – so close that it almost hurt – because he knew what waited him and it broke his heart, utterly and completely. In his back pocket were a small syringe and a pill. At the end of this night, all of this would be nothing but a dream._

_But he would make it worth every minute; every damned minute he had left with her._

"_Why do you look so concerned?"_

_He shook his head. _Please, please, whatever god or gods there might be; please give me strength to do this.

"_It's alright, I'm just a bit nervous," he replied and closed his eyes. "I've fixed something special for you."_

_She raised her eyebrows and gave a surprised noise, intertwining her fingers with his._

"_Go on, show the way," she said teasingly and smiled._

_He gave her a quick kiss before leading her out of the room. Earlier that evening, he had ordered the servants to retire early and not walk in this corridor. They did of course not raise any objections but those he guessed would've stirred up trouble anyways, he had had a private talk with._

"_Where are we going?" she whispered as they were walking. "You're not trying to set me up for a scare with your brother right? I mean, he's damn scary sometimes, don't you agree?"_

_He sighed but a grin inched the corner of his lips upwards. _Nothing can bring me down this night, not even my brother.

"_Don't complain; he has his moments." She rolled with her eyes at him and gave him a friendly punch._

"_When he talks, yes," she answered and smiled. "Why is he always so silent?"_

"_Well," he started and rounded a corner. "He's having a tough time in the military, that's all. I don't think he likes it even half as much as we think he do."_

_She gripped his hand closer and sprinted forwards a couple of steps, so that she could look at him straight._

"_Why doesn't he give it up?" she asked gently. "I reckon he would be a good wood chopper or chef; that man swings an axe like he was born with it."_

"_I don't think either of those jobs would suit him, to be honest," he replied with fake seriousness. "He has a secret dream job."_

"_Ooh, let me hear all about it!" she exclaimed and he hushed at her._

"_Okay, okay, but promise not to tell anyone." He took a deep dramatic breath and met her expectant countenance. "He wants to be a singer."_

_Their combined laughter filled the halls but he didn't care if someone would listen. He didn't care if even the Raedsel Guardsmen would come running after him; what mattered was the most wonderful woman in the world and that she was his, if only to midnight._

"_Now you're all that serious and gloomy again." She pulled in his arm and he stumbled after. "Come on; just show me what you got for me."_

"_It sounds like you already know what I've got planned for you," he said and took point. "Have you been spying on me again?"_

"_Of course not," she replied then paused. "But… it's not like I don't have a window in my room and that you were in complete vision of me the whole time."_

_He slapped his forehead and groaned._

"_Fuck," he muttered and sighed. "Oh, well, well; why am I even surprised."_

"_Exactly."_

_They reached the balcony through a pair of double doors and a chilly summer breeze welcomed them. He had fixed a table and two chairs, together with some wine, fruit and bread. It hadn't been windy half an hour earlier when he had finished the preparations and realized now that the living candles where useless. Fortunately enough, the moon was shining brightly and lit exactly the place where they would sit. It was perfect._

"_Wow, what a surprise!" She smiled slyly and approached the table. "Demacian wine; how did you get your hands on that _here_?"_

_He grinned back at her and helped her have a seat._

"_I have a source," he answered. As he saw how she suddenly shivered, he took off his jacket and carefully put it on her shoulders._

"_Thanks," she said and then pinched the bridge of her nose, her face grimacing in pain. "This headache is killing me."_

"_Ah, I checked it up with a close friend of mine; he told me to give you this," he replied and reached into his pocket. _Here I go.

_She lighted up as she swallowed the small pill._

"_It already feels better."_

_Her gentle fingers gestured for him to pour up some wine and he obeyed, filling her glass to the half. She didn't even get to taste the expensive wine before she collapsed on the floor._

"_Fiora!" he cried and sank down on his knees. "I'm so sorry—"_

_He had been told what would happen, but that didn't make him any more ready for the sudden convulsions of her slender body._

"_D-D…"_

_She tried to say something but only a choking sound escaped from her throat._

"_I had to do this, I'm so terribly sorry." The tears made it hard to see but he angrily rubbed them away and took hold of her shaking body. "If you hadn't taken that tablet, you would've died!"_

"_They forced me to; I had no choice, I swear! He didn't want me to be together with you, since the war is coming and he doesn't want me to be distracted." He clenched his teeth and stared deeply into her azure-blue eyes that were wide open in shock. "He poisoned you with some shit from Zaun and he gave me two choices: either to be with you and watch you die in a painful, slow way or give you the remedy and watch you from afar, being alive and healthy."_

_She tried once again to speak but no words came out and her eyelids were starting to get heavy. _Now was the time to inject the shot.

"_You won't remember any of this, any of me, _us_," he continued and plunged the needle into her forearm. "You will wake up in your room, all safe and sound, not being able to recall even the smallest of details."_

_She moaned loudly as the fluid in the syringe disappeared into her skin and tried to get away from him, but he held her closer._

"_Forgive me, Fiora," he whispered and kissed her lips for the last time. He savored the warm, slightly salt taste of her and the hot feelings bubbling up in his chest. Their eyes locked and he pulled away to tell her what he had felt already the first day they had met, the first second they had seen each other._

"_I lo—"_

"_How _touching_. Guards; take them away."_

He woke up of his own scream. Someone knocked on the door and he guessed that it was a concerned summoner.

"Is everything alright?" The female summoner paused then opened the door. She blushed as he stumbled out of the bed in nothing but pants. "I-I'm so sorry, Draven, I shouldn't have entered."

He grimaced when seeing the light coming from the door and pulled back his hair.

"I'm not Draven."


	12. Chapter 3:2

**CHAPTER 3:2**

Draven buried his axe into the head of the bear and it sank down with a wet sound. He grinned and picked up his weapon that pointed out of the large animal's skull. It had died in an instant.

"Man, I'm good," he muttered and wiped his razor-sharp blades with a scrap of fabric. "Draven the Beastslayer."

"Is it dead already?"

Draven rolled with his eyes.

"Yes, of course," he returned and shook his head. "What do you think? I'm Draven. The man who will_—_"

"Alright, Draven, let's move on."

Draven glared at Swain but chose not to answer. _That man must be half-snake; one does care extra not to talk to him._ He scoffed and sheathed his axe, continuing to walk.

It was he, Swain and a small group of soldiers that were escorting _her_ to Zaun. They were not afraid of any highwaymen or wild creatures; for the first they had a parchment with the official permission from the Council of Equity and the second… well, they had Draven. He hadn't killed anything in at least a week and it made him feel slightly uncomfortable. So when the bear had come running through their little group, scaring the horses and a soldier with phobia, he had jumped off his horse and attacked the animal. His first hit had only made it go frenzy but the fight had been exhilarating to all of his senses, making him enjoy killing it slowly.

"Show's over, folks!" Draven grinned widely at the soldiers. They were not from Noxus but from the Institute of War, and had a hard time keeping their food down at the sight of the cracked open skull. "Doesn't get better than this."

Draven had at start been confused why Swain chose him instead of his brother for this. He had always known that Darius was the favorite of the Blood Brothers – of course just in Jericho's view – and had protested loudly. Even after a long time arguing whether Swain was right or not, his brother had agreed that it was not good if Noxus lost one of its most popular champions while introducing the Glorious Executioner. Not only would it seem suspicious to other political eyes like those of Ionia and Freljord, but it would surely look like Noxus was having internal issues, making the city-state look weak. And that was something that no Noxian would accept.

The group reached Zaun during the evening but Draven had been told last night by Swain that it was not their real destination. The soldiers that had accompanied them would return back to the Institute and he and Jericho would continue after dark. Draven had been told about a secret laboratory a couple of miles from Zaun. The place was under the ground and seemed to be in complete control of Swain, without any interference from the Council of Zaun.

"So what are we going to do?" wondered Draven and stretched his arms. "I thought we were going to wait _inside_ Zaun. You know, in a tavern or such where it's warm. It's damn cold now."

Swain shook his head and rested against a large rock, leaving Draven standing.

"You should maybe take on some more clothes?" he suggested then pointed towards the carriage. "Check on Miss Laurent; she's been awfully quiet for a long time now."

Draven shrugged and pulled forth one of his axes, swinging it skillfully.

"Sure," he replied reluctantly. He hated when someone told him what to do, especially Jericho Swain, but agreed with this for once. She had been silent during the whole journey thus far and had not even asked for some water, her hands and feet immobilized with magic.

He opened the carriage door and peeked inside. She was resting her head against the darkened window and breathing calmly, her eyes fluttering open as he spoke.

"Is everything fine?" he quietly asked and then grimaced. _Stupidest question ever, Draven, good job._ "Erm, are you thirsty? Hungry? Or do you need to use the bathroom?"

Their eyes met and he swallowed. She didn't look angry or sad to his surprise, but merely at thought.

"No," she answered and shook her head. "Where are you taking me?"

Draven opened his mouth to answer but then hesitated. _What's the point to lie? She's not going to Zaun._

"You need help," he said and looked away. "Swain knows a place—"

"Am I going to die?"

Draven clenched his fists.

"I don't know," he admitted and met her gaze again. "I understand about half of what that man says."

She smiled and he grinned as well, happy that she seemed comfortable in his presence.

"You don't look like one of them," she suddenly said with relief.

He frowned and decided to step into the lee of the carriage. The wind was blowing harsh and he almost felt bad for Swain. But then again the old man had his creepy bird with him, wherever he went. Draven didn't know what its name was or if it had a name whatsoever, but he knew that something with six red eyes was never to be trusted.

"'Them'?" he asked and sheathed his axe. _She can barely move; nothing to be afraid of. _"You sure you feel alright?"

She chuckled and waited for him to sit down comfortably before continuing.

"You're not a voidling," she said and pulled at her handcuffs with a metallic sound. "But I remember attacking you… what happened?"

He stiffened in his seat. It was obscure inside the carriage with the closed door and even though he barely saw anything, he still felt safe with the woman who had almost killed him. Draven knew that he wasn't supposed to say anything but neither was it really his style to keep quiet.

"Nothing special," he answered and scratched the back of his head. "It was just a misunderstanding, nothing more."

She nodded then sighed.

"This is so wrong," she quietly said. "Nothing is what it seems like; I don't even know who I can trust any longer."

"You can't trust Swain," answered Draven immediately. "He's a deceiver, a liar and a coward. I don't know what he might want from you but whatever it may be, it's not going to be good news."

They were silent. Draven didn't know what to say and decided to stay quiet. There was something with her that made him so calm and at peace. The day before, he had found old newspapers about the outrageous scandal involving her and her father and about her quick rise to fame. He had found an equal, someone as egoistic and confident as himself, a woman so proud that people detested her, and no matter how many times he tried to shake off the feeling he couldn't. The two of them were similar and even though Draven knew that his brother hated her, he wouldn't let that stand in his way. This was _his_ choice.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Dry - again?! - and a bit boring maybe, but I just wanted to put in why Draven is so drawn to Fiora since it was asked of me, as well as calm things down from the last chapter. I hope everyone understood what happened (?!) but if you didn't, feel free to PM me and I'll explain. ^^ I promise that it'll be more interesting next chapter and sorry if I bore some people out D:**


	13. Chapter 3:3

**CHAPTER 3:3**

"Victory!"

Darius felt the now familiar warmth of being teleported back into the Institute of War. He opened his eyes and looked straight up into the ceiling of his room, dressed in nothing but a pair of loose fitting pants.

_What a horrible game_, he thought and sighed. _The yordles didn't even seem like they tried. Of course that Noxus would win._

Darius rose from the bed and pulled back his hair. He approached his desk and pushed aside the large pile of documents and one or two letters from his brother, the latter being reread countless of times. It wasn't often that Draven decided to send him a couple of words but when he did, Darius always made certain to check if his brother had written something about _her_.

His headache had disappeared but the nightmares kept on haunting him whenever he closed his eyes. The dream… the memory he had experienced was something he tried desperately to forget. Every thought of her he was trying to erase and sometimes he even wished that he had chosen the late General Boram Darkwill's advice and taken a memorysyringe of his own. There had been days when he was truly happy – but that had been at least a decade ago. Much had happened since then, the war in Kalamanda, the assassination of the General as well as the duel between Jericho Swain and Keiran Darkwill. He had himself gotten the honor of executing the notorious duelist in the name of Swain's victory.

_The notorious duelist… _He sank down on the chair and searched for something to read. Whatever that could take his mind off the train of thought; leading to the woman he had left.

_We were young_, he scoffed and brushed aside an old report from Zaun. _We were young and we were wrong. Demacia and Noxus will never stop fighting each other and we were foolish and naïve to think else. And even if we had a chance outside of our city-states' politics, I would never be able to be with her. She's a highly born person, belonging to one of the richest and noblest houses of Demacia, while I am nothing but an orphan. But that is the beauty of Noxus: I did not need a name to rise to power._

Knock, knock.

Darius ignored the person outside his chamber – waiting for him or her to go away – but to his surprise, the stranger opened the door and entered. He turned around to see a woman stepping into the room with a smug smile.

"I found the right brother," she said with satisfaction. "I hope you have a minute?"

She was dressed in a summoner's cloak and pulled her hood down, revealing a typical Demacian countenance with a pointy chin and a small nose. Her hair was blonde but her eyes were copper-colored.

"And you might be?" he wondered and approached his closet, finding a shirt. "Summoners are not allowed to trespass. In fact, _nobody_ is allowed."

There was something in her cold, calculating eyes that made him want to shiver but he resisted the feeling and crossed his arms. It was the first time he had seen a summoner's face in plain light and had at times wondered if there was something wrong with their features, due to their use of powerful magic.

She smiled again and looked unabashedly at his body.

"There might be a rule for that," she agreed then shrugged. "But that won't stop me."

"You didn't answer my earlier question," he said and raised his eyebrows. "Who are you? You're not exactly the stereotypical summoner."

"Oh, so you realized that?" The woman placed her finger on her lower lip and pouted. "And here I thought I was perfect. You sadden me, handsome little soldier."

Darius threw a quick glance at where his axe rested and found the distance depressing. He would not be able to reach it before she could react.

"What are you going to do? Cut my head off?"

"What do you want from me? Why did you mention my brother?"

She shook her head and sat down on his bed.

"I never said anything about your brother," she answered. "Who's your brother?"

_She must be crazy_. "I don't have a brother," he lied and leaned against the wall. "Why did you come here?"

"To ask you where Swain took Fiora Laurent."

He opened his mouth but closed it again. _Did she know? Impossible—_

"She's being treated in Zaun. Swain has nothing to do with that," he replied and tried to sound as neutral as possible. "It's official."

The woman made a disappointed noise and crossed her legs.

"If there's one thing I've learnt from Swain, it's that he's a liar."

Her answer surprised him and Darius couldn't stop himself from asking:

"Do you know him well, or?"

She sighed and looked away.

"I guess you could say that," the summoner replied and swallowed. "He used to be my teacher but now… he's gone completely mad."

"What do you mean?"

Darius had a feeling that he shouldn't dig into Swain's past but this was an opportunity he could not miss. A pupil of Jericho must know a lot about the man or at least have something interesting to say.

"I kind of bailed on him," she continued and frowned. "He was researching a poison he called 'the Black Substance' and said it to be his secret weapon."

She paused, seemingly struggling to find the right words.

"H-He tried it on General Boram Darkwill."

Darius felt his chin drop and quickly collected himself. _So that's how he died. How could Swain stand to tend the funeral? Maybe…_

"So that's why he burnt the corpses?" asked Darius and his eyes widened as he slowly understood the direness of the situation. "He made such a show out of it, staying until the bodies of the soldiers were burned beyond recognition. The reason he did that was to make sure that nobody saw how they had died."

"Exactly," the woman said and nodded. "I quickly left Jericho after that and have been hiding ever since. He mustn't find me or else I'm dead."

"General Swain is a much better ruler than the late General," stated Darius and eyed the summoner. "Even if he killed Boram Darkwill, it was for the greater good."

"He also used the Black Substance on Keiran Darkwill before their duel."

That shocked him.

"He _cheated_?" exclaimed Darius. During all these years of service, Darius had never even once suspected the Grand General of Noxus to be able of such cowardice. But what he heard now made much sense. He remembered the duel in every detail, even today. Swain had seemed very confident about his victory, almost like he knew… It explained everything.

Darius rubbed his chin and thought about what she had said. It all made sense except for one thing.

"Why do you want to know where Fiora is located?" he wondered. "She has nothing to do with that."

"I still have some connections in Swain's inner circle," she told him and smiled again. "He can hide some parts but not everything. I fear that he will take his little experiment to a completely different level. He will probably dosage Fiora Laurent with the Black Substance and see what will happen if she continues to get it in her system. Or well, that's at least what my source told me."

"How do I know that I can trust you?" asked Darius angrily. He didn't like the way she smiled or talked. "I've never even met you before."

"You don't," she replied with a chuckle. "I guess you'll have to take a leap of faith if you want to save the woman you—"

"Quiet."

The summoner furrowed her eyebrows and rose up from the bed, heading for the door.

"I was just saying the truth," she said quietly and exited.

_A truth that can never become true._


	14. Chapter 3:4

**A/N:**

**Long time since I posted yes, but I haven't had the urge or the willpower to write something down and since I'm ridiculously harsh towards myself, I didn't want to post this chapter until I had edited the whole story. There shouldn't be any grammar issues etc, but if you find something please tell me. I have also been busy with my AC3 (gawd, she's making advertising her other story!) and filled my plot holes in this story.**

**Now, here's the next chapter to all us Draven fans!**

* * *

**CHAPTER 3:4**

"She's unstable again!"

"Get another sedative!"

Draven straightened and tried to see what happened inside the room. He was standing behind a window which was blackened on the other side, making it almost impossible for someone to see in but easy for him to look out. The "ventilation flap" in the connecting wall was in fact so that he could hear what they said. That worked both ways though, so he had kept quiet all this time.

"It won't work."

"Then give her another dose of the substance!"

A syringe extracted some fluid from a small vial, its color of water. Draven turned away as it was injected into the frail shape of an arm.

_I don't care how much that might help her, that needle is the size of my—_

"Done."

"Subject's heartbeat is decelerating. She's in the green again."

"Puh, close call."

"Indeed, well executed, Simon."

The men hurriedly packed their things together and turned on the normal lightning. One of them – Simon, Draven guessed – shot a glance through the glass between them and nodded. The duo was wearing strange goggles and it seemed like they were able to see him, even through the window.

Draven understood what the… doctor meant and exited the spectator's lounge. He opened the door into the room and waited for the men to gather the tools and equipment they had used.

_Nay, that needle is definitely _not _the size of my finger. Mine is way bigger,_ he thought and saw them walk away. Draven closed the door and quickly approached the woman lying on a large table. Her eyes were closed and she breathed calmly, now and then creasing her brows and mumbling something inaudible.

Knock, knock.

"You guys forgot something?" asked Draven and then sighed, when hearing the door opening. "This is not some show," he added and turned around.

A fair-skinned girl with blonde, wavy hair sashayed in, dressed in the same white coat as the rest of the doctors here wore. Her eyes were orange – like a cat's – and they widened in surprise as she saw him.

"Eh, I was sent here to check on Fiora Laurent," she said and scratched the back of her head, smiling a little. "Is this the right place? The General said she'd be alone…"

Draven instantly unsheathed his axe and swung it in a wide arch towards her neck, stopping just an inch away from the soft skin of her throat.

"Wrong answer," he answered and snorted. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

Her appealing figure would've maybe persuaded Draven a week ago but he didn't even notice it now. She tried to back away but he had already guessed her move and snuck his foot around hers, making her fall onto the hard floor. _A good move I learned from you, Fiora._

"I won't repeat myself," he continued and a cold smile curved his mouth. "I'd hate to have your pretty face rolling down the hall, but I won't hesitate even once. You're given another chance. Speak."

The woman's countenance was first shocked but turned serious in an instant. She tried to stand up but Draven pushed the point of his axe on her cheek.

"Don't even try."

Her eyes locked with his and something similar to recognition flashed by.

"You…" She swallowed when he pulled forth his second axe. "You must be the brother, yes. Is your name Draven?"

He squinted with his eyes, trying to see any signs of her lying – sweat on her forehead, a wavering gaze, _anything_ – but she looked to be truthful.

"Yes, the legend incarnated in flesh and blood," he said. "But that still doesn't tell me anything about _you_."

"What a fortunate day!" she squeaked and smiled widely. "You must've heard everything from your brother already, I've already spoken to him and all—"

"What are you talking about? You've spoken to Darius?" he asked, her words confusing him. "I don't know what you're on, but that's some seriously bad shit. How did you even find your way here? You're obviously not an employee."

She took the opportunity to slowly push away his weapons and he let her rise up.

"Your brother told me where this where, of course not at start but after some convincing and stuff…" the woman pulled forth a tiny, black bottle. "Anyways, Swain is experimenting with something dangerous and using Miss Laurent as his subject. He's giving her a poison called 'The Black Substance'."

Draven dropped his chin. He couldn't help it; he just was so completely taken aback by what she was telling him.

"'_The_ _Black_ _Substance_'?"

"I don't know the details about it but my sources are keeping me as informed as possible," she told him and brushed off some invisible dirt on her coat. _Women._ "But I don't think it really is as 'black' as Swain says it is. He's probably been putting out false information within his own lines to fend off against spies like me. Smart bastard."

"And how do I know that I can trust _you_?" wondered Draven and pointed his axe against her stomach. "You could as well be a spy for Jericho to check on me. Would be just like him."

She whistled impressed.

"Wow, you actually have a lot of brain after all," she said, genuinely surprised. "I didn't think about that myself. I guess you'll just have to take a leap of faith if you want to save the woman you—"

He raised his blade in level with her eyes and she immediately quieted.

"Continue."

She swallowed and shook her head.

"I didn't say anything."

"Good," replied Draven and smiled. "You have nothing to do with what I feel for her, nor do I know how you found out. But let's keep this neutral or I'll make you regret the day you were born."

Something, the tiniest glint of anger lighted her oddly-colored eyes but it disappeared so quickly that Draven thought he had imagined it.

"Alright." The woman held up her hands in resignation. "But can you please get this out of my face? It makes me nervous."

He let her words linger a moment extra before sheathing the both of his axes. If she would try to attack him, he'd definitely have the upper hand in melee.

"Tell me your name," he demanded and crossed his arms.

She sighed and sank down on an empty chair.

"Here I thought you were the easier brother." The cat-eyed woman glanced at him, obviously nervous if he would react. Draven stayed still and she continued. "My name is Eva and I was Swain's former pupil. The whole story with him and me is way too long to be brought up now, but I know that he's a rotten man, seeking to be the ruler of all Valoran. Do you know anything about the passing of the Darkwills'?"

Draven shook his head and rested against the table where Fiora lay. He could feel the warmth of her body and ignored the ache to look at her beautiful face.

"That is another story that you'll take with your brother then; I don't have much time here," she explained and looked at the small flask in her hand. "Swain murdered them, using the Black Substance."

Draven knew he should be surprised but he wasn't. Something horrible like this was what he had expected from that snake all along.

"After further research, I realized that maybe the poison wasn't black and that it was just a codename or a way to perplex people like myself and I paid a thief to bring some of the Black Substance. He succeeded and I was able to analyze the small dosage. It took me a day or two, even with Piltoveran techmaturgy, but I made a remedy. "

Eva uncorked the vial and handed it to Draven. He smelled it, suspicious of the content, but the fragrance was alright.

"And what will this do?" he asked and made the movement to drink it when she stopped him.

"It's not for _you_, it's for her," she snapped and rolled with her eyes. "It's the antidote. What else was I talking about?"

Draven eyed her and she calmly met his gaze. _She's telling the truth_, he understood and nodded. "Just checking on you."

She frowned and sighed.

"Maybe I gave you too much credit."

"Or maybe you think yourself smarter than you actually are."

Eva snorted and started to walk towards the door.

"I better be off; don't want Swain on my heels. He already knows I've infiltrated his business and I probably have a price on my head by now." She suddenly spun around and smacked herself in the face. "I forgot! You're probably too stupid to understand without my instructions: she needs the entire cure injected in average amounts into her body. Not too much at once, that is. It must go directly out into her system so use a syringe; the whole procedure won't take more than maybe five minutes but be subtle."

And she disappeared, the door closing behind her.

"Subtle," mumbled Draven and clenched the bottle between his hands. "I don't _do_ subtle."


	15. Chapter 3:5

**A/N:**

**New summary, yay! I felt like I needed something more serious and a little note of what this story actually is about. I hope you like it. ^^ Sorry for delay, btw, I was busy these couple of days and yesterday when I decided that I had to write a new chapter, I wrote like 900 words but it was so bad imao that I started all over again. Anyways, here's the next chapter!**

**CHAPTER 3:4**

Darius entered the small facility with a sigh. He didn't want to leave the Institute of War where now Noxus was missing two of her greatest representatives and a newcomer. Words were already spreading about a weakening city-state and it took him every ounce of willpower to stay calm.

"This way, please."

He followed a tall man, supposedly a guard with his dark armor and a black helmet. It was surprising how well-guarded this place was; when Darius had travelled here, he had been stopped twice by men from Swain's private arsenal. They had of course recognized his face but he was still asked to show them his permission.

They passed a reception and ventured down an elevator to the floor below. Darius then continued into a long corridor and the guard led him to the third door to the left.

"Swain is presently managing political issues in Noxus; he'll be here by nightfall. He suggested that you may want to meet your brother again."

Darius nodded and the man left him, heading back towards the elevator.

"Draven?"

The door immediately opened and Darius was hastily pulled into the room by his brother.

"What do I do?! Eva never told me anything about her _waking up_!"

Darius gestured for his brother to calm down but smiled on the inside. He had met with Eva again, the day after their first meeting and convinced her that they should rescue Fiora. After a lot of arguing – she was so stubborn – a plan had been made up and all was settled. She would send a letter to Draven addressed with Darius's name, the envelope containing detailed instructions and the syringe with the antidote. Draven was supposed to find out the number of guards and how heavily they were armed, and Darius had gotten his brother's letter yesterday, late night. Swain would not win this.

"Take it easy, we planned everything," said Darius and placed his hand on Draven's shoulder. "Is she conscious for the moment? Eva said that it would take up to three hours for the antidote to kick in."

Draven rolled with his eyes and pointed towards the bed.

"She's been shivering and mumbling ever since I injected that shit into her," he replied, holding up a dark-colored vial. "What are you planning to do?"

"We're getting her out of here," answered Darius. He didn't want to look at her, the woman just a shadow of her former self. He feared that if he saw what Swain had done to her, he would lose himself. "Eva said she could help at Piltover; but we got to get there ourselves."

"Are you serious?" exclaimed his brother and smacked his fist into a wooden table. "Please tell me that you _aren't_ kidding with me."

Darius sighed and leaned against the door.

"Have I ever struck you as a funny guy?" he asked and frowned. _Today is the day I'm going to betray the only man I've ever respected. _"Come on, we better away."

Draven grinned widely and put the strange bottle in his pants.

"You're making me so proud, brother," he said and unsheathed his axe. "Let's move out!"

A sudden cough ruined the mood.

"What… what have you done to me?"

The blood in Darius's veins froze to ice and he saw his brother stiffening as well. They looked at each other in agreement and it was Draven who spoke.

"We're busting your pretty arse out of here, what else?"

Her hunched body shape slowly rose from the bed and took a step forward. She lost her balance and both he and Draven hurried to her side, but she brutally pushed them away.

"Don't touch me," she hissed and raised her head. "I asked… what have you done to me?"

Darius opened his mouth to say something but Draven beat him to it.

"You were being used as an experiment for Swain," he explained and creased his brows. "Some woman named Eva, a former student of Jericho gave us an antidote to your condition. You were rambling about the Void—"

"Security breach! All units alert: the patient is _gone_!"

The voice of the same guard as before echoed down the hall and Darius heard the large man's footsteps. And they were heading straight towards the trio, accompanied by several more.

"You see," said Draven, unusually content with the direness of their situation. "You're the patient, or the prisoner in this case, and we are your heroes. And no, I don't have a pen to sign you an autograph."

Her blue eyes pierced into the younger of the Blood Brothers' and she clenched her jaw.

"What are you talking about?" she asked and pointed accusingly at Draven. "I wanted this and now you two idiots are trying to 'save' me?"

"What?!" exclaimed Darius and his brother at the same time. They looked at each other in confusion, not knowing what to believe.

"She must have side effects from the cure," whispered Draven. "It was quite an amount."

"No, it must be withdrawal symptoms of the poison; Eva told me something about that—"started Darius.

"Hello? _I'm_ _still_ _here_."

"Shush," said Draven and grinned. "You're hot, but don't talk when we men are discussing."

"Whatever you might have heard, it's not true. I wanted this of my own accord."

Darius finally decided to look her in the eyes. She was already watching him with a confused expression written all over her face, her sharp eyes piercing into his. The antidote Eva had supplied Draven with was supposed to remove all magic presently affecting her mind or body, thus eliminating the Black Substance… as well as repair her loss of memory.

Knock, knock.

"We have to vacate every room on this floor; hurry up and get to ground level using the elevator."

_We'll have to fight our way through, _thought Darius and clenched his fists around the large axe hanging from his left shoulder. He was armored and ready for what would come. One glance at his brother and he knew that Draven was more than enthusiastic to cut some men down.

"We'll be right out," replied Darius and unsheathed his weapon. He nodded at Draven to take point and his brother grinned wickedly.

"Who wants some Draven?"

Draven kicked open the door, instantly knocking down two guards and lashed out with both of his axes. Blood splattered on the white walls and heavy thuds voiced the otherwise silent corridor as the dead bodies collided with the floor.

"Done," said Draven casually and looked back at Darius.

"I'm not going anywhere with you Noxian scums."

Darius sighed and pulled back his dark hair.

"We are your only way out of here, Fiora," he replied and handed her his extra dagger. "Nothing will happen to you, I swear it."

She hesitated before taking the weapon while eyeing him suspiciously.

"Why do you give me this?" she asked, perplexed. "Don't you think I can stab you in the back?"

"Of course I do," he answered and held back a smile. "But I trust you."

_Again, that confused expression from earlier_, noted Darius and held her gaze. _Please, you must remember. Boram couldn't take it away permanently; you got to remember._

Draven cleared his throat.

"Shall we off then? I would like to be as far away as possible before Swain arrives."

Darius nodded in agreement and exited the room.

"Let's go."


	16. Chapter 4:1

**A/N:**

**I'm trying to not make a habit of making these, but the reason why this chapter will be so short is cuz I wanted to be able to write something before these four-five days when a friend from another town far away from mine, will visit me and stay here. So I donno if imma be able to write anything and so I quickly did this one today.**

**The story is drawing to its end, ladies and gentlemen, and I wanna thank everyone who's followed it thus far. This won't be the last I'm writing about LoL characters and I have atm planned eight more (?!) I hope ull continue to read my work and help me become a better writer ^-^**

* * *

**CHAPTER 4:1**

Darius didn't know how far they would be able to make it with Fiora's weakened condition, but halfway to Piltover, she broke down.

"I can't walk any longer than this."

He stopped and turned around. She was leaning against a tree and wiped sweat off her forehead.

"We are soon there, Fiora," replied Darius and swallowed. It felt awkward to finally say her name after all this time fighting and bickering in the Fields of Justice, but she didn't seem to be bothered. In fact, he hoped that she would remember more quickly if he could trigger something – anything – from her.

She shook her head and sank down on the ground.

"I haven't eaten anything since…" He didn't need her to finish; he already understood what she was saying. "Whatever that bitch poisoned me with, it was strong indeed."

The last thing she said caught his attention and he decided that they would take just a small break. Calling after his brother, Draven soon emerged from the already darkening forest. They had already passed the worst of the swamps near Zaun and were slowly closing in to Piltoveran territory. Darius had been worried how he could explain what a Demacian highborn and two Noxian soldiers were doing out in the wild, but they hadn't seen a single soul yet. Even the animals seemed to stay away from the trio, insects alike.

"Why are we stopping?"

Darius nodded his head towards the seated Fiora and sighed.

"She won't move," answered Darius and shrugged. "Nothing I can do. And I guess she needs a pause."

Draven creased his brows, rubbing his chin.

"Why not just… I don't know; _carry_ her?"

Darius glared at his brother, not knowing if Draven was joking or not. He guessed that it was the latter and crossed his arms.

"I can't just lift her up and go," said Darius angrily. "She has a knife."

"Well, you gave her it." Draven waited for Darius to reply, but he refused to say anything. "Come on, she doesn't even look heavy. But if she is, we could take turns."

Darius rolled with his eyes and sighed again.

"No, I won't."

"And why not?" asked his brother irritably. "She doesn't have the luxury to play the role of a princess and neither do you. So let's just pick her up and go!"

"I think we need to tell her what's going on," said Darius with a calm voice and as he looked at his brother, he saw that Draven agreed. "Imagine how hard it must be for her; she doesn't even know us two and still has to trust us. Two _Noxians_."

Draven looked away.

"I get it," he replied quietly.

"Good. And don't you ever dare to call me a princess again," added Darius quickly.

"Whatever."

The Blood Brothers sat down next to her and Darius saw that she gripped the handle of her weapon. Their eyes met and he shook his head almost unnoticeably. She saw his movement and obeyed, although hesitating for a second.

"So…" He paused and glanced at Draven, but his brother gestured for him to continue. Darius looked back at Fiora and she raised her eyebrow sarcastically, also waiting for him to say something. "What did you mean earlier by saying that you 'wanted' to be taken to Swain's facility?"

She grimaced and averted her gaze from his, eyeing Draven suspiciously.

"I was poisoned," she said and pulled back her hair. "I can't recall why… or how; I don't even remember who the assailant was. But it had to do with something about…"

Fiora closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"It's alright, just continue," replied Darius reassuringly. _Maybe she will remember now._

She sighed.

"Anyways, Swain contacted me and told me that he could help me. I first ignored him, determined that I could handle myself but soon… Soon I couldn't even keep a steady connection with my summoner in the Fields of Justice. I realized that I was out of options and asked of his aid."

"Not too long after he gave me a temporary dose of medicine that kept the shadows at bay, I was visited by a woman saying she knew my darkest secrets," she continued and raised her piercing gaze towards Darius. "She said she knew something about me… and _you_.

"Was she hot?"

Darius punched his brother's arm and glared at him. "Quiet down."

"Well, I'm not into women," she answered mockingly but the corners of her mouth turned upwards. "But I guess she was."

"Hold on, how did she look?"

"Stop interrupting, Draven," answered Darius, shaking his head in disappointment. _She had been so close, so fucking close to the truth… but what happened next?_

Fiora frowned and looked thoughtful.

"I think…" She paused and swallowed. "She was blond, had strangely colored eyes and height-wise maybe to my shoulder."

"_Eva_."

Darius and Draven said it at the same time but it wasn't until then that Darius realized how stupid he had been. _Eva must be behind everything. And I trusted her, I listened to her… everything was a lie. But what does she want Swain?_

"Eva?"

Darius turned to his brother, knowing that he looked furious.

"She cheated us. Who knows what she said was true? She might even be behind the poisoning—"He interrupted himself, realizing the danger they were in. "We got to get moving, now! _Before_ she finds us!"

"Too late, handsome little soldier."


	17. Chapter 4:2

**A/N:**

**So, she left yesterday and I took the chance to write and play some ^^' We had fun and I spontaneously bought a sketchpad to connect with the computer, meaning that I might finally use some posters I've made of my own c: We'll see if I'm not too lazy about it. I did also buy Dragon Age: Origins for PS3 – since I am a sucker for console – but the gameplay makes me feel nauseous D: If someone of you have experienced the same and know the reason why, please share o-o'**

**Without further ado (rubbish?), here's the next chapter!**

***Shoutout to my dear friend Renz!***

**CHAPTER 4:2**

"Eva."

Draven reacted with instinct, flinging one of his axes towards the devious woman. The blade spun faster than the eye could perceive and he knew that she impossibly could dodge his attack.

… Which made him a thousandfold more surprised when she looked completely unharmed, even though he could swear that he saw the blade cutting through her skin. She cocked her head to the left and a cold smile spread over her lips.

"Oh, you missed," she teased him and her orange-colored eyes quickly analyzed him from head to toe. "Bad, Draven."

"Fuck you, bitch."

A playful smile replaced her features and Draven gritted his teeth. _How did she fool us all?_

"You… you're Vessaria Kolminye."

Draven glanced at his brother with a surprised expression, thinking that Darius was only bluffing, but he was serious. Darius pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

"How did you to it?" continued Darius and shot a venomous glare at Eva.

"A true magician never reveals his or her tricks, isn't that so?" she answered and closed her hand around an ornate, tall staff made of a strange metal. The head was crescent-shaped and consisted of glowing gems in different sizes, flowing around the gracious rod. "But I always _lie_."

Draven gripped his second axe and started spinning it, carefully checking that Fiora wasn't too close to the razor-sharp blade, or too far away that he couldn't protect her. He was furious that his brother and he had trusted Eva, more so that she had betrayed them. She was surely a spy for Jericho, meaning that he and Darius was in deep shit.

"Who are you really?" asked Draven and tried to stay calm, even though he barely could keep his voice down. _I will have to move quicker than I have ever done before._ "'Eva' is obviously not your name."

She started giggling and covered the lower part of her face with a perfectly manicured hand.

"Or maybe it is," replied Eva and shrugged. "Who knows?"

"Not that it matters."

Fiora staggered forward and clenched the fabric of her shirt. She was breathing heavily and barely had the strength to move, but raised the dagger she had received from Darius.

"You did this…" Fiora swallowed and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. "And it's escalating. You can't control it anymore, can you? Nor do you know that my memory is back – all of it."

_What is she talking about?_ Draven opened his mouth to ask his brother, but Darius seemed paralyzed. "Hey, what's your problem?" asked Draven and placed his hand on Darius's shoulder. "Not the time to be sleepwalking."

"Fiora..?"

Draven didn't know what was happening until he saw his brother's eyes connecting with Fiora's, both of their faces lighting up with warmth. And even then, he refused to believe what he saw. All he could think about was: how? When? _Why?_

"Cute. But boring."

Fiora quickly parried the swing of the staff and gripped it with her hand. Draven hurried to her side and brought down his axe towards Eva's head, aiming to decapitate her. The blonde woman smirked and disappeared back a couple of yards, leaning towards the tree closest to her and yawned.

"You better move faster if you want to hit me," she said mockingly and brushed away a strand of hair from her pale complexion. "Or maybe try to have some brain."

"You better shut the fuck up and let me kill you in peace," replied Fiora next to Draven and took a deep breath. "I move fast enough already, you just don't fight fair."

Draven nodded in agreement and spun his axe once again. _This time, I won't miss._

"Who said I'm _fighting_ you?"

"End of talking, Eva. Your games will end here."

He saw Darius unsheathing his gigantic weapon and the heavy blade thudded into the ground. Darius pulled back his dark hair and shot a worried glance towards the hunching woman between them, but rapidly collected himself.

"Is that so?" wondered Eva and straightened. She was dressed casually, typical Demacian, and didn't at all look like what Draven could remember her. Even her face seemed oddly… _changed_. Like she had worn a perfect mask and just now taken it off. She was still terrifyingly beautiful; though now with the added "terrifying".

"Yes," answered his brother. "But I must thank you for curing Fiora of the Black Substance as well as removing her amnesia. Your plan backfired, it seems – you actually healed her."

A smug smile flickered over Eva's lips but the movement was so quickly replaced with a grim smile, that Draven thought he had imagined it. But knowing how false she now was, he was ready for a surprise attack.

"Yeah, that…" Eva genuinely looked disappointed and then nonchalantly waved her hand at them. "Ah, I guess I'm too good for my own best."

She didn't move to attack them but Draven kept himself alert. He had already seen how fast she could move from one place to another… where had she learned that ability? Draven had never heard about someone who could move in such speed; not even in the League had he heard about someone with a similar power.

"You actually deserve my thanks for that," said Darius and lifted his axe. "But now I wonder what you were planning with the 'antidote'."

Eva raised her eyebrows at his brother but focused her gaze towards Fiora.

"It was either meant to slowly kill, or cure her." She threw her hands into the air and the staff levitated above the ground where she had left it. "I don't know since I didn't make it; some poor sod in Piltover did. She's probably dead now."

"Why?" asked Draven.

Eva shrugged and gripped her weapon again.

"Well, I kind of put a spell on her, meaning that if she would fail, she would die. Just to make sure that she wouldn't trick me and make a remedy." She paused and checked her nails. "Seems like she did though. Wait, did I mention it was your sister?"

Fiora lunged towards Eva and before Draven or Darius could react, her blade met the solid metal of the blonde woman's staff. The sharp clang echoed through the glade, followed by a labored breathing and another giggle.

"Tell me that it was a lie," whispered Fiora as she pushed the dagger against the decorative rod. "Tell me that you're lying."

Draven took a step to approach the two women, but a hand hindered him from continuing. When he turned around, Darius shook his head in disapproval.

_Let her handle this on her own, _his gaze said.

"That would make me lie, wouldn't it?"

Draven suddenly heard a – what would be sickening sound for normal citizens – crunch, when Fiora's knuckles crushed into Eva's face. He spun around and saw that his guess had been wrong; the blonde was gone once again, leaving Fiora alone with her fist buried into wood. Dark blood flowed out of the crack and the tall tree swayed slightly.

"Looks can be deceiving."

"But knowledge is key."

Fiora slowly pulled back her arm and grimaced, but didn't seem to be in pain. Her blue orbs found Eva on the other side of the glade and Draven followed her gaze.

"You're not real, aren't you?" asked Fiora and chuckled. "That means you are nothing but a copy, which limits my list of suspects to two persons with such an ability... You're clearly not Shaco, but—"

"LeBlanc."


	18. Chapter 4:3

**A/N:**

**Made this a lot longer than usual cuz I had a lot of things I wanted it to contain, so sorry for delay!**

**CHAPTER 4:3**

"You made it."

Darius stiffened where he stood, refusing to turn around to face the man he had betrayed.

"Seems like I came just in time; explain yourself, _Darius_."

Before Darius could reply, a small hand slithered its way into his. He met Fiora's gaze with surprise but she brushed it off with a comforting smile, and opened her mouth to answer Swain.

"You tried to kill me," she said and her features turned into despise. "You've by then violated the rules the Institute of War has sanctioned all over Valoran, and become an outcast. But I wonder why you put up with all of this."

"Draven agrees." Darius shot a glance at his brother and Draven grinned back, confident of Fiora's choice of words. "It ends here, Swain. You can't run anywhere."

Darius finally decided to face the General just in time to see the old man sigh heavily. Jericho looked neither tired nor angry, and exhausted, more so than just because of his age; he seemed too weary to even care about his squawking bird.

"I know, Beatrice, but I see no point in it— no, of course not, but I won't let her get away again," he quietly mumbled and the grip around his cane softened. "Yes, I'm sure of it."

"What are you blabbering about, Swain? Losing it in front of the great and mighty Draven?"

Draven started spinning his axe and a wicked expression etched onto his face. Darius restrained himself from sighing and Fiora gave his hand a reassuring hug. _That's Draven, _her eyes said and Darius nodded.

"Your fight is right here."

A loud giggling broke the tension of the situation and Darius felt something light trace its way across his shoulders.

"So this is the loyal man who has served you during all these years, Jericho?" Leblanc sashayed to Swain's side with a presumptuous posture, holding up the finger she had touched Darius with. "He doesn't seem that faithful to me. In fact, I now know that Boram was wise to keep him away from Miss Demacia; he would've betrayed you much quicker if so were the case."

LeBlanc positioned herself next to the General – her back turned to the Blood Brothers and Fiora – and gently patted the man on the shoulder.

"You failed with this," she continued and her cold tone changed into something more menacing. "I would like to wish you a lot of luck if weren't it that you'll never be able to survive by the end of the day."

The blonde woman glanced over her shoulder and smirked.

"Ah, irony," sighed LeBlanc and her copper-colored eyes locked with Darius's. "Without you and that foolish, fleeting sense of love, I would've never been able to succeed."

"What are you talking—"

"Allow me to present my latest invention: the BlackSubstance. Subject: Fiora Laurent. Outcome: unknown." She whipped around and her smile widened. "_Initiate_."

"Darius, look out!"

Something suddenly clutched around his hand with such an immense power that Darius almost cried out in pain. He instinctively swung his axe towards whatever it might be; he'd rather risk cutting his own hand off than endure a second more.

Fiora nimbly dodged his attack but dropped his hand. She came to a backwards roll and an almost animalistic sound escaped her throat, her piercing blue eyes consumed by something dark and terrifying.

"What do you think, Jericho?" Darius glared at LeBlanc and the blonde woman raised her eyebrows ever so slightly. "I think this shows that I won once again – pleasure playing with you."

"Do you really think so, Deceiver?" The General scoffed. "_Restrain_, Fiora."

Darius felt his blood go cold when Swain approached the hunched Fiora, ignoring the frown he got from LeBlanc. The old man put aside his cane and unbuttoned his jacket. His raven started to croak perniciously and its six red eyes focused on Darius.

"I want to thank you for making such a formidable weapon for me," continued the General and his voice grew darker, more sinister. "You don't actually believe that you _lured_ me here?"

Darius met his brother's gaze and saw that Draven was as confused as himself. _Two masterminds, playing their little game of chess and we're in the middle of it._ Fiora didn't move from her kneeled position, staring into the ground, and Darius was forced to use all of his willpower to not just run to her side and help her up. His left hand felt crushed and he was sure that more than just a couple of bones were broken, a good reminder that she wasn't in control of herself. _What has happened to her? _

"Wrong, LeBlanc," said Swain and shook his head in disappointment. "I led you through all of this. I actually admit that you had me for a while, using Lady Laurent instead of Darius, but then – who are you to avoid collateral damage?"

Jericho dropped his long, forest-green coat to the ground and unlaced his armor with one, swift movement. Darius didn't know what to believe when dark feathers burst out of the General's skin, covering the man from head to toe. The rest of Swain's clothes were ripped to shreds as he continued to grow larger and larger in size, towering over even Darius.

"_Behold my other form, Deceiver_."

The monster standing next to Fiora was nowhere near alike Swain; it was a monster built for brute force and matters of strength, its appearance more than horrifying. His face had transformed into a birdlike beak and six eyes adorned the large head. The body shape of the monstrosity was bulky and sluggish in its motion, but Darius knew that only one successful hit from the beast would mean the end. It was a truly fearsome opponent but Draven seemed optimistic as usual.

"Hah, you freak! I always knew you were one ugly son of a bitch."

Darius rolled with his eyes at his brother but Draven seemed only more exhilarated by Swain's metamorphism. The younger of the Blood Brothers casually strode to pick up his second axe and started spinning both of his weapons with a wide grin.

"Draven fears nothing!"

"_Quiet down, Draven. I'll be certain to make your death an agonizing one but for now, a bigger problem must be dealt with,_" replied Swain and even his voice had changed. "_LeBlanc, I've let your corruption spread too far, letting my emotions stand in my way. You're nothing but food for my birds_."

"_Birds_?"

Darius instantly pulled down Draven with him and they hit the ground. Where they had stood just a second ago, black ravens flew their way towards LeBlanc. Their joint squawking voiced the glade with a deafening noise and the smell of rotten flesh and old corpses filled the air. Darius turned to look at the birds' goal, just in time to see them piercing through the blonde's body. She screamed in excruciating pain but Swain didn't stop his assault.

"_Pitiful defenses you have, Deceiver. Show me your true self_."

The illusion of LeBlanc popped with an almost comical sound and the bloodied ravens turned back towards Swain. Darius felt his stomach turn in disgust as the birds flew back to their master and crawled in between his feathers. They seemed to strengthen him, their beaks filled with bits of flesh and blood, and the General patiently waited for each one of them to return.

"You know me better than this, Jericho."

Darius grimaced in pain. When he had pushed down Draven, he hadn't thought about the massive axes his brother was spinning. The blades had cut into his shoulder and he could feel blood trickling down his back.

"_There you are. You never make your copies with the same hair-color as yourself. Getting overconfident_?"

Draven quickly rose to his feet and helped Darius up. A concerned look filled his brother's features but Darius brushed it off with a shake of his head. _ Just a scratch; I'll be alright_.

"Oh, so you've been spying on me? I would feel flattered, wasn't it for your age."

Darius tried to locate where her voice came from and finally found her sitting on her staff a couple of yards above the ground. She was twirling a ringlet of black around her index finger and smiled smugly.

"I know you like the color of my hair; you'd recognize my clones in an instant," she continued and gripped one of the pink gems circulating the head of her staff. She regarded it for a moment before letting it back to orbit. "But what about my pretty eyes? Or you only like me from behind?"

_Wow_, mouthed Draven to Darius and the both of them awkwardly looked away. _Wow_ _indeed_.

"_Perhaps you're forgetting we have an audience here,_" replied Swain and his claw-like hands doubled in size. "_Let's get this over with. Come closer and I'll try to kill you instantly. Try to run and my birds will do the same to you as with your illusion._"

"Not happening, Jericho." LeBlanc then made a gesture with her hand but nothing happened. Her countenance turned furious. "So you've finally outsmarted me and snatched my fancy tool for yourself. But what now? You can't just simply kill me."

The creature that was Swain pointed towards LeBlanc and a sickly green sphere formed between his grasp. He then pulled back his arm to gain force and pushed out towards the levitating woman. She barely avoided his spell and swung around her staff, then graciously sat down on it again.

"Miss," she mocked him and weaved an incantation of her own, yellow light absorbing into her hands and forming an orb. "I hope you have lived well, Jericho, for this is _definitely_ your end."

"_We're thinking the same_," breathed the birdlike monster and its eyes all locked onto LeBlanc. "_Initiate_."

Fiora immediately lashed out with her dagger and threw it with all her might towards the dark-haired sorceress and it hit her dead-center, just beneath her sternum. The force of the weapon and its flight made it ring in Darius's ears as he watched LeBlanc's expression turn blank. She gripped the handle of the blade and tried to pull it out but in vain; it wouldn't move and blood erupted from the wound.

"H-How…?"

Before Swain could answer, LeBlanc mumbled a spell and disappeared, the dagger sailing down towards the ground.

"So that was it then."

Darius turned to look at a now normalized Swain, his beak and feathers gone as they've never been there. The General signaled with his right hand and his armor and clothes were flown back to him by the only remaining raven, the one which stayed him true no matter what.

"Good girl, Beatrice," greeted Swain the bird and it squawked in response. "I'm sure she's dead by now."

"Swain, let her go."

Darius lifted his large axe and saw that Draven copied his movements in the corner of his left eye.

"I don't want to kill you," admitted Darius and shot a nervous glance at Fiora. She was standing as petrified, all of her movement ceased at the exact time she had thrown the dagger. "Just let me take her with me. I won't demand a trial in front of the Council of Equity and everything will move on."

The General's face was unreadable as he picked up his cane and waited for … Beatrice to find her seat on his shoulder. He then whispered something inaudible to the raven and gave it a small parchment.

"I have no intention of letting you go and especially not with her," answered Jericho as he gently scratched the bird's head. "I don't forgive people easily, let alone traitors like you, Darius. I punish you until you are unable to even stand and then I finally might kill you."

"Then I have no choice but to settle this," said Darius and nodded at his brother. "I will kill you without remorse, Swain."

The General watched his raven soar off into the darkening sky and even gave it a little wave.

"Neither will I," replied Jericho and gripped his cane. "Let's see how well you can fight Lady Laurent; I warn you, she's ten times faster than you can even imagine."

As if on cue, Fiora whipped around and aimed a kick towards his face. Darius raised his hand in defense and grabbed her leg.

"Fiora, it's me, Darius."

She looked expressionless at him and cocked her head to the right. Darius held her gaze but it seemed like she was unable to see him. _She's unarmed and her body is in a weak state; it shouldn't be too hard to lock her down._ He placed the edge of his axe against her neck and it cut her ever so slightly.

"Draven, I got her, go take on Swain," ordered Darius, not averting his eyes from Fiora's for even a second. "I fear she's under some spell or something and he's the only one with magical abilities here; if you're able to kill him, it might undo it."

He heard his brother scoffing and smiled as Draven answered:

"Consider it done, brother."

Fiora suddenly turned to Draven – moving so quick that Darius only saw a blur – and the blood from her wound raced down to her hand, in the shape of a blade. Time seemed to almost stop as she then punched his brother in the stomach and warm blood splashed across Darius's face. He met Draven's gaze and realized that it was over for him.


	19. Chapter 4:4

**A/N:**

**Now here we are, at the last chapter of Elegance in Death. It has been a brief but extremely exciting journey and I'm looking forward to posting more fanfictions for LoL. I will improve and become better and better at writing thanks to you guys, and I always listen to your advices and your feedback. So, this is it for Darius, Draven and Fiora but eventual one-shots might be posted. **

**This was extremely hard to write.**

* * *

**CHAPTER 4:4**

The pain coursing through his body was unnatural. It ripped him to shreds over and over again, pounding into every bone of his body. He could not hear nor speak and whenever he tried to open his eyes, he saw nothing but black.

_What happened to me…? Where am I? I remember—_

"Draven, no!"

It took him a moment to recognize his brother's voice. _Darius? What is it? Why can't I move? What the fuck happened?_

"He's dead, Darius, there's no point of screaming at him."

_Swain._

"Impossible… Draven… _why_?"

"Of the two of you, he's the larger threat. He rarely misses an attack and is hard to fight head to head with."

Draven tried to open his mouth but to no avail; he was like petrified and his efforts almost made him black out again.

"But your quarrel was with me, _not_ with him," said Darius. Draven was glad that his hearing was back but nobody else could be said from his awakening. "He had nothing to do with this and you… you murdered him. You will definitely not get away with this; the Du Couteaus are just waiting for an opportunity to bring you down from your seat as the Grand General of Noxus. The death of the Blood Brothers won't be easily quenched."

_Good job, brother_, thought Draven and wished that he could smile. _Whole Noxus knows who we are._

"Oh, but that's already dealt with," replied Swain with a chilly tone. "Lady Laurent will stand accused for killing the two of you. Which isn't as far from the truth, is it?"

Darius was silent for a moment and Draven wondered if his brother already had been dispatched of, when he heard the swing of an axe. The heavy weapon was parried before mid-swing and the quietude after the clash was so terrifying that Draven decided to not care about the pain and open his eyes, if just the slightest. He only wanted to see if his brother had fallen and then close them again.

_Come on, Draven… since when did pain stand in front of me? I fear nothing._

He finally managed to open his eyes and stared right into the heel of Swain's black boots. To his relief, Draven realized that the General must've just then turned around to face the spectacle of the Grand Duelist… and his brother.

_Swain must've checked my pulse… _ Draven blinked and surprisingly, it didn't hurt anymore. He was slowly getting back his feeling in his face, and Draven took the chance to finally breathe. _Slowly; I can't have the old man to notice me._

"Fiora, can you hear me? He's _controlling_ you, fight against him!"

Draven glanced to Swain's right side where he saw Darius fighting. His brother was clearly the underdog with his wound already bleeding through his cape and his incapability of hitting Fiora. Maybe was he reluctant to hurt her –Draven almost rolled with his eyes – but she was practically moving like lightning. It was hard to focus her dark rapier as it swiftly found holes in Darius's defense. His brother was adamant, never even once letting her blade find its goal, but he was tiring quicker than her and even stopped counterattacking. He was completely concentrated in trying to stay alive but this was a battle destined to be his loss.

_But what is she wielding? _Draven squinted with his eyes but couldn't discern her weapon from the obscureness of the background. It was melting in with the darksome color of the forest, but suddenly a streak of red trickled down the hilt of her sword and dripped down on the ground. Darius grunted and sank down on his knees.

"Fuck…"

"Already giving up? At least make a fight of it, Darius."

Draven glanced up at Swain. _So he had also seen how Darius didn't seem to try_.

"What's the point?" asked Darius and smiled, his gaze staring into the ground. "Even if I do hit her, she heals and continues like nothing. How did LeBlanc find a way to make a human this powerful?"

"It was a secret project developed decades ago," answered Swain and coughed. "The Black Rose was a large organization at the time, standing as powerful as the Institute of War does presently. I was a former member and together with Evaine, we tried to find a way to use the powers of the Void."

Draven felt his body grow cold and remembered the dusty parchments – a few of them stained with Piltoveran lemonade – he had read in the Great Halls of Knowledge. All of them described a darkness not yet entered into the world of Runeterra and had shown horrifying sketches of creatures he wouldn't have imagined even in his wildest dreams.

"Skip the nice talk, Swain," spat Darius and rose to his feet again. "I found reports of the 'experiments' in the Institute of War and there are many who speak for some mere gold."

Jericho cleared his throat and took a step to the right, covering Draven's view with his large coat.

"We… She suggested that we should use young children as subjects," continued Swain and he sounded unusually emotional. "The Void sent out these 'Dark Spots' all over the world that could consume a whole village in just a day and immediately send out voidspawns. Nobody of us knew how or why they were sent in numbers like that until we realized that these were only scouters, searching for our larger cities."

Darius was quiet and waited for Swain to continue.

"We decided that something was needed to be done as these voidlings spread what we called 'the Blight' where they crossed the ground, killing whatever it touched, and decided to come up with a remedy that would not only cure but give the being immunity from the Void and its corruption."

"So you used orphans?"

Draven heard how angry his brother sounded and a similar feeling heated up his own senses. _Why does this sound familiar? _

"_We _used orphans, yes. Wherever we could find them, preferably not in Noxus but when it was needed, a sense of nationality didn't hinder us; after all, we will all stand the same before the Void," said Jericho and sighed. "We did what we could but nothing seemed to work."

"How exactly did you _develop_ the antidote? And what did you do to the kids?"

Swain's answer took the breath out of Draven.

"We would place a child armed with a weapon in an arena with a voidling and watch them fight. While observing, we took our notes and tested what the creatures' weaknesses were." Jericho paused and turned around. Draven quickly shut his eyes and tried not to move. "They were vulnerable to sharp steel weapons and easy to take down from range. I guess this tells you more than enough, Darius."

"Yes it does," replied Darius quietly. "Draven, he was..?"

_Turn around, turn around, turn around, I'm losing my breath here!_

"During your twelve months of absence, serving your first year in the military, I took care of your brother and gave him food and shelter. How did you else think that he survived? How did you think he learned his skills with the axes he's carrying yet today? We injected him a dose of our latest remedy and he brought complete havoc upon those little voidlings, never even once getting a scratch. Nine months passed in an instant and we decided to let him fight a larger beast, a creature we let out in the arena after years of imprisonment. It was truly marvelous to see Draven fight a monster five times his size, his final test before we decided that he was invincible to the voidlings due to the cure."

_He must be lying,_ thought Draven and slowly opened his eyes. _I don't remember any of what he's saying, it's fucking bullshit. I'm Draven and I'm the man who will surpass any god there is; not some… left-alone puppy._

Swain had since long turned back towards Darius but did no longer cover Draven's view. He tried to meet his brother's eyes but Darius was still looking at Jericho.

"Unfortunately, the Black Rose was destroyed and tabooed by the late Grand General Darkwill and he got the support of General Du Couteau, the most influential man at the time." Draven saw that Fiora had frozen in place once again and understood that Swain was controlling her every movements. She didn't even seem to breathe. "LeBlanc escaped with the ones loyal to her and I was shown mercy by Boram."

"And Fiora? What does she have to do with all of this?"

Draven slowly started to get in control of his body again and felt the weight of his axes in his hands. He was still gripping them and could easily move his fingers.

_Soon,_ he thought and gritted his teeth. _Soon I'll kill you Jericho. Just keep on talking and let my brother stay alive._

"Her father was a very loyal member of the Black Rose."

A sudden fast movement surged through the glade and it was almost as if Fiora had materialized next to Swain. Her blade was wavering just an inch away from the Master Tactician's neck and she was staring furiously at him. Her piercing blue eyes had regained their strength and she glared him down.

"Liar…"

Draven wished he could see the General's expression but a burning feeling consumed his senses. He stiffly moved his head downwards towards his feet and saw a dark, red hole where his stomach should be. With a gentle movement, he touched the wound and the pain almost made him pass out.

"I wouldn't lie about this," replied Swain with a serious tone. "You were dying, being corrupted by the Blight, and your father chose to give you the Black Substance after seeing what it had done to Draven. And you survived, didn't you? Don't you ever wonder why your hair is black and red naturally? Don't you ever wonder how you got so incredibly skilled with a sword? We _succeeded_."

"Monster," she spat out and her whole body was starting to shake with exhaustion. "Liar. Monster. I _swear_ I'll cut your tongue off and feed you with it before I kill you."

Swain shook his head in disappointment and sighed.

"LeBlanc made sure that she learned the way of manipulating the Black Substance coursing through your body," he said, staying calm even though her dark blade extended and touched his skin. "I don't know how, but your sister must've finished the cure; you're the ultimate soldier against the Void. That's how your wounds heal and what makes you _unstoppable_ – Lady Laurent, you're the complete perfection of what techmaturgy can offer."

"Why… why can't I just kill you?"

Her eyes gradually lost their edge and her face went blank again. She quickly turned away from Swain and faced Darius, lowering her rapier in level with her sternum.

"I also learned how to manipulate the Black Substance in your body and I'm the only one except for LeBlanc who masters the ability." Swain almost backed into Draven and the younger of the Blood Brothers could feel the smell of death from Jericho, no doubt due to his transformation earlier. The old man turned to Darius and continued. "We should all be happy actually, since now the Void will be no match to us. Runeterra _won't_ fall and all of this at the cost of two brothers' death. It's worth it, in every aspect it's more than worth it."

_Brother…_ Draven ignored the bone-shattering pain that hugged every inch of his body and sluggishly rose to his feet, still clutching his gouged stomach with one hand and gripping his axe in the other. He finally locked eyes with his brother and struggled hard to keep his gaze steady. _Live well, live long, and live happy. I had my time here and it was fun while it lasted, but the world can't yet handle the godlike Draven; I'm too ahead of this time. I won't let you die and even if it stands between the two of us, I'll choose myself. You're a far better person than me and I wish you all the best for the rest of your life… This is goodbye, Darius._

As his brother's eyes suddenly filled with tears, Draven hooked his axe over Swain's head and decapitated him in one motion. The old General didn't even have the time to look surprised before his body slumped down on the ground, his head rolling a couple of feet away. Draven delighted in the scene, knowing that it was his last ever, and the world fell apart, bit by bit. His pain disappeared and all of his hidden memories came rushing back, making him understand _everything_. With the last amount of strength he had, Draven grinned widely, staring into the starry sky.

_I love you, brother. Stay forever strong._


	20. Epilogue

**EPILOGUE**

"_I can stand… I can stand!"_

_She was overjoyed with happiness and slowly rose from her bed. Her legs were slightly stiff, but she could _move_ them._

"_I-I…" She didn't know what to say and sighed. "I'm healed."_

"_Of course you are; look what it did to me."_

_She carefully put her feet on the floor and stood up. To her amaze, she didn't fall._

"_I can't believe it," she said with awe and straightened. "It feels like nothing ever happened. I haven't lost my strength at all."_

_She took a step forward and almost lost her balance, but he caught her by her shoulders._

"_Easy now, you haven't been walking for almost nine months now," he said and smiled reassuringly. "But I promise that I'll help you with every step."_

_Looking into his brown eyes, she smiled and nodded._

"_Thanks."_

The sound of glass being broken woke her up and Fiora instantly gripped after her rapier. Then she remembered where she was and relaxed.

_These dreams… _She yawned and stretched out on the comfortable bed. _Are they of my past? What has been stolen from me… am I getting it all back?_

Another piece of glassware was shattered and she decided to check it out, even though she knew who it was and why he did it. Three weeks had passed since… his brother's funeral and he had been completely crushed ever since. She had tried to convince him to stay in bed a couple of times, but he responded with an empty gaze and silence. Something had died, deep inside of him, when he watched Draven's body being engulfed in flames and then wither into ash. She had stayed at his side during the whole time and hugged him as close to her as she could, but he seemed almost numb.

As she slid out of the bed, she swept herself into a blanket and looked out of the window. It was blowing up to storm and the denizens of Noxus were quickly hurrying to end their errands to find shelter. She had at first been reluctant to stay here, but she was _not_ leaving him on his own.

"Darius?"

She peeked out of the room and found nothing but darkness. Piles of notes were crowding the floor and she bent down to pick up an old file.

"'Project Blue'," she read out loud and skimmed through the papers. "'…subject reacts forcefully when close to voidspawn – could be effective as trackers…'"

Fiora grimaced when she read the rest of the report. _I don't understand why he tortures himself like this… his brother wouldn't have wanted it._

"Darius?" she called out again and put back the folder to the way it had been. "Let's go to bed again; tomorrow waits a long journey."

They would travel to the Institute of War and testify for what Swain had done in front of the Council of Equity. LeBlanc was apparently a champion – not that popular, though – and had been missing for weeks, even put up as dead. Well now she was, but it was still wrong of the League to choose not to do anything about her disappearance. It was already known worldwide what she had been through and it had been hard for the Noxian High Command to smuggle her and Darius to a safe house in an upper-class district of the large city-state.

… It had been like waking up from a nightmare when the last of the Black Substance disappeared from her system. One was apparently needed to consume the poison regularly for it to be effective and since both Swain and LeBlanc were dead, nobody knew how to control it anymore. She had been on detoxification in Piltover during two weeks, traveling there as soon as the ashes of Draven had been buried. The memories of him were still piling on top of each other, and Fiora was slowly remembering everything of her childhood.

She maneuvered through the hall and found her way to the kitchen, where he usually could be found. And there he was, sitting at the dining table with his third drink of alcohol. Glass fragments lay spread across the whole table and she saw that he had injured his hand – again.

"Hey," she said and sank down on a chair opposite him. When he didn't answer, she gently reached for his bleeding hand. "Drop it."

He sighed but didn't answer. She watched him as she took the glass away from him and placed it on the wooden table. The latter had seen better days, especially before Darius had decided that crushing glass with his bare hands was his new hobby.

"You got to stop doing this to yourself." Fiora inched closer to him and kissed his cheek, then pulled away. "This isn't good for anyone, least of all you."

"I don't deserve to be happy."

She decided to ignore her own chair and sat down in his lap.

"Well then," she replied and leaned towards his chest. "Don't I deserve to be happy?"

He stiffened and the wounded hand she was holding, suddenly snaked around her waist. She couldn't stop herself from giggling when he tugged at her gown and sent a hot trail of kisses down her collarbone.

"Stop it; I've got no clothes under—"He interrupted whatever she had tried to say with a soft bite around the most delicate part of her breast and she let out a little moan of satisfaction.

"Could you repeat yourself?"

His voice had gotten a seductive tone and if it weren't for the broken glass on the table, she would've let him embrace her there.

"Where…?" he asked breathlessly.

His dark eyes were focusing on hers and she chuckled. Fiora tangled her fingers into his black hair and closed the distance between their lips.

"Take me to the skies."

**A/N:**

**So… This was it for Elegance in Death. I want to thank everyone who has supported me by reading, reviewing or clicking the favorite/follow button. I don't think I made anyone surprised with this epilogue – even though I wish I blew ur minds o.o – and as you can see, I won't make a sequel of Darius and Fiora. There might pop up a couple of one-shots or so, but I'm going to focus on my new story, "Techmaturgical Precision". As title reveals, it will be about a certain Piltoveran gentleman…**

**Overall I'm quite content with my first fanfiction ever and I hope you understood everything! (something at least) And for those of you who wonder if I might do something more with Draven, then yes (^^) I plan a story about him but nothing is set in stone. Yet.**

**Thank you all for reading!**


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